


Operation Boyfriends

by magisterpavus



Series: The Chiquita Chronicles [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aftercare, Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Angst, Aphrodisiacs, Apologies, Bondage, Come Inflation, Consentacles, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Edgeplay, Fluff and Smut, Guilty Pleasures, Happy Ending, Healing Sex, Humor, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kissing, Miscommunication, Multiple Orgasms, Nonverbal Communication, Oral Sex, Other, Overstimulation, Possessive Keith (Voltron), Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Riding, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Secrets, Size Kink, Slime, Spitroasting, Stomach Bulge, Suspension, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism, that definitely isn't accidental the 2nd time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: Lance gaped at her. “You…you’ve really been thinking about this, huh.”yes i did the math you are welcome.Lance exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. “And I appreciate that, I do, but…in case you hadn’t noticed, Chiqui, we’re kind of on an alien planet right now. Surrounded by aliens. Human male boyfriend candidates are in short supply.”are they tho?Lance narrowed his eyes. Chiquita looked downright smug. “Don’t you dare,” Lance warned.





	Operation Boyfriends

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the wonderful @trolltail, who is probably Chiquita's number one fan. 
> 
> thank you to everyone else who's been giving Chiquita love, she's thriving :'D I encourage you to [check out the awesome art](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/tagged/chiquita-art) people made of Chiqui, and if you happen to make some art of her, please send it to me!! and yes, this is now part of a series called The Chiquita Chronicles, we'll see what's in store for the future...
> 
> support me on tumblr [@saltyshiro](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/)

“Alright, Chiquita, what’s all this about?”

She gestured wildly with all her tendrils at the blank wall, and Lance waited until she began writing on it in her glowing blue cursive.

 _it has been a year with you. i care for Lance a lot,_ she wrote.

“Aw,” Lance said. “I care about you too, Chiqui, but why –”

 _but i am a plant,_ she added, ending it with a very resolute period.

Lance’s brow furrowed. “You’re a highly advanced plant-invertebrate, c’mon, don’t sell yourself short!”

The tentacles turned to him for a long moment. Then she wrote, _i am a plant. Lance is a human. Lance needs other humans. not just me._

“Wait,” Lance said slowly, “are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’? Are you – are you breaking up with me?”

Chiquita’s tendrils fluttered in a small panic. _NO,_ she wrote in blocky text, before calming and returning to elegant cursive, _i am suggesting…additions._

Lance folded his arms, eyebrows raised. “Additions.”

_yes. Lance needs a boyfriend._

Lance’s eyes widened, then widened further when Chiquita paused, crossed out ‘a’ and made ‘boyfriend’ plural. “Chiquita, what – boyfriends?! Why do I need _boyfriends_? Why _multiple_?!”

Chiquita had apparently been prepared for this question, because she wrote quickly and neatly, _male humans only have one tentacle each. and they are not very impressive tentacles. so, lance will require at least 2 human boyfriends to be happy!_

Lance gaped at her. “You…you’ve really been thinking about this, huh.”

_yes i did the math you are welcome._

Lance exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. “And I appreciate that, I do, but…in case you hadn’t noticed, Chiqui, we’re kind of on an alien planet right now. Surrounded by aliens. Human male boyfriend candidates are in short supply.”

_are they tho?_

Lance narrowed his eyes. Chiquita looked downright smug. “Don’t you dare,” Lance warned.

_i know how you feel about them_

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Lance shrieked.

_…and i want you to be happy, lance_

“Chiquita, stop right there, no no no I am not going to – to ruin Shiro and Keith’s relationship with this –!”

_you would not ruin it!_

“You think it’s a _good idea_ for me to waltz in with my alien tentacle sex plant and say, ‘Hey, I’ve been fucking Chiquita for a year, wanna join in, because I’ve had hopeless repressed crushes on both of you on and off for the past two years that haven’t gone away even though you’re dating each other?’”

 _mostly i have been fucking you,_ Chiquita pointed out. _and shiro knows already._

“Don’t remind me,” Lance grumbled. “I have to deal with his judgmental looks every time I go to visit you, ugh.”

_judgmental? or jealous…_

“I hate you,” Lance told her with feeling. She’d learned sarcasm a while ago and patted his head fondly.

 _do not worry about ruining shiro & keith,_ Chiquita wrote.

Lance thought explicitly about ruining Shiro and Keith, though probably not in the way Chiquita was referring to right then. “Okay,” he croaked. “What are you gonna do, Chiqui?”

 _woo them,_ Chiquita wrote with determination. Lance snorted and got a reproachful tentacle poke. _i can do it. i will woo them so good, Lance!_

“Woo them so well,” Lance said, because they were still perfecting her grammar, and she quickly corrected it before turning back to him, expectant. Lance sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…ugh, fine. Woo away.”

Chiquita did a little celebratory tentacle dance. “But,” Lance added hastily, “don’t mess this up, please. If they’re not into it – which they probably won’t be, just warning you now – then we gotta stop, like, immediately.”

Chiquita’s tendrils bobbed eagerly. _they will be into it! i have a plan! do not worry Lance!_

Lance smiled despite himself, shaking his head at her. “I put myself in your capable tentacles,” he told her.

 _as usual,_ she wrote playfully, and darted away with an amused quiver before Lance could smack her.

And so Operation Boyfriends began.

*

Something was up with Lance.

Not that Keith, like, constantly kept tabs on Lance and his behavioral patterns (he totally didn’t, at all), but he wasn’t oblivious, and Lance had definitely been acting weird lately. Weirder than usual, anyway.

It had started a week ago when they’d landed on Planet Taigarana, which Voltron had recently liberated from the Galra. The Taigarans were both endlessly grateful and in serious need of help rebuilding what had been destroyed in the long, hard battle.

Allura, of course, had swiftly pledged Voltron would aid them in the reconstruction efforts in any way possible, and the Taigaran queen happily let them stay in her family’s ancestral summer home for as long as they wished. Keith thought giving them a literal palace was _slightly_ over the top, and he felt bad living in such luxury while the Taigaran citizens sifted through the rubble of their homes, but even Keith had to admit it was a nice change of pace.

When they weren’t rebuilding cities and mending shattered dams and broken bridges, they had quite a lot of free time on their hands, more than any of them were used to. And maybe that was why Lance’s odd behavior was so obvious.

The guy had a lot of energy normally, but nowadays he was almost…twitchy. He seemed totally normal when he was hanging out with Pidge and Hunk or talking with Coran and Allura, but around Keith (and Shiro, who was usually wherever Keith was), he stuttered, rambled, left the room too quickly, laughed too much, and generally seemed like a nervous wreck.

But then they would have dinner in the grand dining room together and Lance would be back to his usual loud, borderline obnoxious self, clinking his glass against Hunk’s and flirting good-naturedly with Allura and the Taigaran servants.

And then there was Chiquita. Pidge had rigged up a sort of scooter board for Chiquita to move around on, and Keith sincerely wished the plant had just stayed stationary. There was something both terrifying and amusing about seeing a giant tentacle plant rolling towards you at top speed down the hallway, waving its “arms” around like a little kid on a rollercoaster.

Mostly terrifying.

Chiquita was mostly terrifying to Keith, even though Lance treated it like his girlfriend or something, Pidge was endlessly fascinated by it, Allura and Coran were charmed and polite, and even Shiro tolerated it. Only Keith and Hunk were determined to stay the hell away from it, and Keith was grateful he wasn’t the only one who understood how unsettling Chiquita was.

Especially when it began writing in long, complete, coherent sentences and making symbols like hearts and question marks with its tentacles – Slav had assured them all months ago that Chiquita had no ill intentions and was as good a plant as Lance claimed, but Keith wasn’t buying it. Something about it just made the back of his neck prickle – and Keith’s instincts were rarely wrong.

He’d told Shiro as much several times, and Shiro had just shaken his head with a smile and promised he wouldn’t let Chiquita hurt him. Keith had rolled his eyes, but secretly he was a little reassured by it. Just a little, though – Chiquita had been growing since Lance had gotten it, and was now so big that it had an entire room to itself in the Taigaran palace. Its bulb – brain – thing was bigger than Lance, or Keith, or even Shiro, and Keith couldn’t help but think about how if it did decide to turn on any of them, they wouldn’t be able to stop it unarmed. It was not a good thought.

Chiquita’s behavior lately had been…almost as weird as Lance’s, if not weirder. Keith swore the plant was getting closer by the day – more than once a slimy tentacle brushed up against him, or against Shiro, and although Keith watched intently to see if it touched any of the other paladins, it never did. Keith always flinched away, Shiro usually ignored it. Chiquita began brushing up against Shiro more often. Shiro didn’t seem to notice, but Keith sure did.

At the start of the second week, Chiquita’s indirect touching escalated. Keith stumbled into the kitchen for a late breakfast only to see Chiquita’s thinner tendrils wriggling across Shiro’s bare left forearm. Keith usually needed caffeine to wake up fully, but that morning all he needed was protective boyfriend rage.

Chiquita startled back almost guiltily when Keith stormed over to the table and grabbed the seat next to Shiro, between him and the plant. Shiro raised an eyebrow at him and yawned. “Morning, Keith. You look…upset.”

“What was that creepy plant doing?!” Keith hissed, leaning over to peer at Shiro’s ooze-covered arm. He faltered. “What…what the hell?”

Chiquita had doodled all over Shiro’s skin. Shiro snorted and took a sip of Taigaran coffee. “She’s an artist, apparently. I always wanted tattoos; this is like the next best thing.”

“You want tattoos?” Keith said stupidly.

Shiro chuckled and offered him his coffee mug. Keith took a long sip, eyes never leaving Shiro’s arm. The doodles ranged from simplistic hearts and stars and smiley faces to more complex designs like birds, trees, leaves, butterflies, flowers, and even something that looked an awful lot like a dinosaur. 

Keith was very aware that Chiquita was still at the table, and besides Pidge, who was asleep and drooling on a nearby couch, they were alone with it. Chiquita had retreated slightly, but its tentacles still swayed back and forth, and Keith didn’t even know how it could _see_ but he had a feeling it was watching them.

“Why did you let that thing use you as a canvas,” Keith finally managed.

Shiro frowned slightly. “She was bored, I guess. And it’s not like I’m doing anything. I didn’t even know she could draw, it’s cool.”

“Cool,” Keith said. “Uh-huh.”

“I thought you’d at least appreciate this one,” Shiro said, turning over his left hand and showing Keith the faintly glowing drawing on the back of it. It was a large, loopy heart with _K+S_ written inside it. Keith’s mouth fell open.

Chiquita’s tentacles curled hopefully.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Keith exclaimed. Chiquita flinched away again. “No, seriously, Shiro, how are you not weirded out by this?”

Shiro shrugged. “I’ve experienced weirder things. Anyway, she’s harmless, Keith, don’t worry.”

“ _She_ ,” Keith repeated, disbelieving. “I don’t get why you and the others keep calling it that. It’s not a she! I kind of doubt it even understands the concept of gender!”

“Lance said Chiquita prefers to be called she, might as well respect her wishes,” Shiro said lightly. “And Lance said ‘it’ is rude.”

“Drawing on my boyfriend is rude, too,” Keith said, glaring at the plant. The tentacles curled further in on themselves, like they were ashamed. _Well, good. They should be._

But Shiro gave him a look. “C’mon, Keith, she didn’t mean anything by it.” His mouth twitched. “Are you jealous of my temporary tattoos? I’m sure she’d draw you some if you asked. And you have two arms, even better.”

Keith recoiled at the mere thought. “No way is that thing touching me,” he muttered.

Shiro sighed, relenting. “Right.”

Finally getting the message that she wasn’t wanted, Chiquita wheeled herself out of the room, tentacles drooping and dragging along on the floor behind her. Shiro watched her go with a frown while Keith scowled at the trails of slime she left in her wake.

Okay, fine. Chiquita was a _her._

But Keith still didn’t like her.

*

Chiquita hadn’t gotten the message.

Or rather, Shiro wasn’t nearly as opposed to getting slimed on as Keith was, and therefore _kept letting Chiquita slime on him_. Multiple mornings, Keith found Shiro with more doodles on his arm, some even on the Galra arm which she was apparently no longer completely intimidated by. A few times he caught Chiquita in the act – she always wheeled away speedily when Keith hurried over, and Shiro always hinted not-so-subtly that maybe Keith needed to chill.

But how could he chill when Chiquita was painstakingly drawing swirling, beautiful mandala designs all over his boyfriend’s bicep? Keith had no chill. He had only pent up frustration and bewilderment – something had changed in Chiquita’s behavior, and he had no idea why, but he knew that it wasn’t good.

Shiro and the others, however, still saw no malice in Chiquita’s actions. And fine, she wasn’t attacking anybody or suspending anyone from the ceiling or anything like that, but she was touching Shiro almost as much as she touched Lance…which was a frankly ridiculous amount.

Halfway through the second week, Keith cornered Lance about it. It had been difficult to get him alone because of Lance’s apparent new goal to avoid him at all costs, but after dinner Keith managed to haul Lance off down an empty hall and exclaim, “Okay, spill, what is Chiquita doing?! I know you know, you chat with her all the time, so what’s going on, Lance?”

Lance blanched. “Um,” he said. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“You’re a shit liar, Lance.”

Lance folded his arms defensively. “Listen, dude, could you be a little more specific? Chiquita hasn’t done anything wrong, far as I know.”

“She’s touching Shiro,” Keith snapped. Lance’s eyes widened. “Drawing all over his arms and – and brushing past him, and it’s weird!”

Lance blinked. “You’re…mad because Chiquita is _drawing_ on Shiro?”

“Yes!”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “What d’you have against her artistic development? I thought you of all people could relate to her creative spirit; broody emo soul that you are –”

“I’m not kidding, Lance! Tell her to cut it out!”

Lance huffed. “Has Shiro told her to?”

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it. “I…well…no, but –”

“It’s Shiro’s arm,” Lance added. “Seems like he should be the one who decides who gets to draw on it.”

“Why is she drawing on Shiro’s arm,” Keith said, half-pleading. “She never tried to do that before, so why now?”

“She probably just likes him, and was too shy to show it before,” Lance said. Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Jeez, Keith, calm down. She likes you too, you know.”

Keith took a step back. “She – what? _What_?”

“Yep, she does.” Lance winked. “But you didn’t hear it from me!” And before Keith could demand what exactly Lance _meant_ by Chiquita _liking_ him and his boyfriend, Lance half-skipped off to join Hunk in making dessert.

Keith’s head hurt.

*

The next day at breakfast, Chiquita struck again. They weren’t alone this time, Allura was munching listlessly on purple toast while thumbing through the latest reconstruction reports, Hunk was teaching Coran some yoga on the nearby rug, and Pidge and Lance were attempting to make pancakes. Keith wasn’t the greatest cook, but he was ninety-nine percent sure they were doing something wrong, considering that three half-made orange pancakes were stuck to the ceiling.

Shiro was reading the Taigaran city newspaper. Keith was next to him, yawning his way through a book on Taigaran mythology he’d found in the market a few days ago. To his irritation, one of the most popular myths was about an intelligent being with tentacles who lived deep in the sea, and looked like Chiquita’s angrier, winged cousin. He couldn’t escape that damn plant even while reading, apparently.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, then Chiquita started massaging Shiro’s back.

Keith’s eyes bugged out of his head. Shiro jolted in surprise – he was wearing a low-cut undershirt that exposed enough of his back and shoulders to give the tentacles easy access, and they were taking full advantage, stroking and kneading at the muscles and covering them in glowing blue.

Keith made a sound of wordless outrage and grabbed for the nearest tentacle, unthinking, but Shiro caught his arm and shook his head. Keith stared at him. Allura paused mid-chew, her eyebrows slowly raising. Everyone else was still oblivious, thankfully, because Shiro let out a long, low sigh that was so blissful that Keith’s face warmed. Allura looked hastily away, focusing twice as hard on the reports. Chiquita squeezed Shiro’s shoulders more firmly and Shiro slumped into it, his lashes fluttering.

Keith gaped at him. “Shiro?” he said in a small, shocked voice.

Shiro blinked and looked at him, his face relieved and peaceful in a way it rarely was. “Hi,” he said. Slurred, more like.

“Are...are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. _Yeah._ Mm.” Shiro sighed again and folded forward onto the table, looking at Keith with a lopsided smile and half-lidded eyes. “Just feels good. I’m…more tense than I thought, I guess…”

The tentacles smoothed over his right shoulder sympathetically and Shiro _arched_ like a pleased cat and let out a soft whine, and Keith squirmed in his chair because he hadn’t even known Shiro could make that sound. “Did it drug you?” Keith hissed urgently, leaning down close to his face to look at his pupils. They were dilated, but not abnormally.

Shiro shook his head. “It’s the…the ooze, remember, it has medicinal qualities. Like a healing salve…lotion…ohh. Damn, this is a plant of many talents, ah…”

Keith was conflicted. Shiro was obviously enjoying himself – perhaps enjoying himself a little too much considering the public locale, but…the expression on his face was one of rare contentment. Keith couldn’t possibly interfere with that, even if damn Chiquita was the cause of it. Keith glowered at her, but lowered his hand, and told himself he was not so insecure that he’d be envious of a _plant_.

Then a tentacle wrapped around Keith’s wrist.

He jerked away instinctively, gawking at it when it didn’t release him, and instead tugged at his arm lightly. “Let go,” Keith muttered, hand curling into a fist. “What’re you – doing...?”

The tentacle guided his hand to Shiro’s back. Keith’s fist uncurled and Shiro hummed happily when Keith’s palm pressed against his knotted muscles. The ooze was warm against his skin, tingling pleasantly, and when Keith tentatively rubbed between Shiro’s shoulders with his thumb the other man groaned quietly and practically melted under his touch. Chiquita’s tentacles curled away from Keith and continued massaging where his hands couldn’t reach, taking care not to brush against Keith at all.

Keith swallowed, lifting his other hand to Shiro’s back, watching in dazed fascination while Shiro crumbled, eyes falling shut and breaths evening out as Keith and Chiquita worked the long sleepless nights and hidden hurts out of his body. Allura was watching them over the top of the reports, her lips curved in a slight smile, and if Keith had looked to the kitchen he would have seen Lance watching them too, ruining yet another pancake as the spatula fell from his hands and clattered to the floor.

*

Chiquita wasn’t the worst.

She was even tolerable – Keith had established boundaries with her, unspoken but known by them both. She could touch Shiro when Keith was there, and only when Keith was there, and they gave him massages together when the day’s work had been especially difficult. The effects were instantaneous – Shiro was sleeping soundly through the night for the first time in ages. Keith couldn’t dislike anyone who brought Shiro the unmatched peace of a deep, dreamless sleep, even if they were an alien tentacle plant.

They had a truce.

Lance, of course, noticed.

“Sooo,” Lance said over the private comms while the Red and Blue Lions were ferrying building supplies over a mountain range, “you and Chiquita are getting along better, hmm?”

Keith made a face even though Lance couldn’t see it. “Not the wording I would use,” he grumbled. “Coexisting, more like.”

Lance sounded…disappointed. “Oh,” he said. “So you’re still weirded out by her?”

“Lance, I think that’s kind of a granted. You’re weird for being _not_ weirded out by her.”

There was a long pause. Then Lance said, “I just think you should…keep an open mind, buddy.”

Keith shook his head in exasperation. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Just sayin,” Lance replied, unhelpfully. “She has feelings too.”

Keith sat back in his seat heavily. “Feelings,” he repeated. “The alien tentacle plant has _feelings._ Seriously, Lance?”

“More feelings than you, ya heartless jerk,” Lance retorted, and shut off the comm. Keith rolled his eyes and waited. Lance was back on within thirty seconds. “Chiquita knows you’re not down to be her compadre, and it makes her sad because she doesn’t know why,” Lance explained. “She’s trying her best to be nice, y’know.”

“Nice,” Keith repeated with disbelief. “Okay, listen…I’m sorry if I like, hurt Chiquita’s, uh, feelings…but I think I’m entitled to not wanting tentacle massages, Lance. Is that so wrong?”

“But why,” Lance pressed. “Why don’t you want tentacle massages, Keith?”

“I cannot believe you’re asking me this right now, like that’s even a question. _Nobody_ wants tentacle massages, Lance!”

“Shiro does.”

Keith exhaled sharply through his nose. “Shiro is…is an outlier, okay? He’s got a lot of stress and tension and pressure to deal with, more than any of us could even imagine, he’s desperate! He’ll accept any help he can get at this rate and I’m not going to stop him!”

“…you seem pretty stressed too, dude.”

Keith threw up his hands, and the Red Lion rumbled in warning to remind him that he was, in fact, still piloting as well as talking to Lance about tentacle massages. It wasn’t a great combo. “I’m fine,” Keith wheezed after narrowly avoiding a mountain peak.

Lance’s comm crackled with unconvinced static.

“Why do you want me to get a tentacle massage so badly anyway?” Keith said into the silence.

Lance made a very satisfying choking sound. “Uhhh –”

“Does Chiquita give _you_ tentacle massages?” Keith pressed.

“Yeah!” Lance half-yelped, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, totally, she totally does. That. _Massages._ A lot. It’s great. I just want you guys to like. Understand the greatness of the…Chiquita Therapy.”

“So why isn’t she trying to massage Allura?” Keith asked, confused. “Allura is as stressed as Shiro, maybe even moreso.”

“Chiquita is scared of Allura,” Lance said in a conspiratorial whisper. “She doesn’t seem to like Alteans very much, I dunno why.”

“Wait,” Keith said, frowning, “if Chiquita gives you massages…have you been stressed out lately, Lance? Are you…okay?” He winced remembering the events of nine months ago, when he and Allura had accidentally made Lance cry and have an anxiety attack. Chiquita had been there for Lance when he fled to his room…and his teammates hadn’t. Keith felt guilty every time he thought about it – they should’ve been there. _He_ should’ve been there…it had been his fault, after all. He’d tried to be better to Lance since then – it wasn’t like he wanted to hurt the guy.

Actually, come to think of it, Keith _really_ didn’t want to hurt Lance.

He also really didn’t want to continue down that dangerous train of thought, and focused on remembering how warm and safe he felt when Shiro spooned him to sleep instead.

Lance barked out a laugh. “Aww, are you worrying about me? You’re so sweet, Keith.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I!” Lance sighed. “I appreciate the concern, Keith, but really – I’m good. I’ve been talking with Hunk about…stuff a lot more, and that helps, and Chiquita helps me too. Weird or not, she’s good to me.”

Keith considered that. Then he blinked and said, “Oh, wait – is that why you go to Chiquita’s room every night? To get massages?”

Lance made another choking sound. “Whoa, dude, how do you – how do you know I go to her room at night?!”

Keith shrugged, realized Lance couldn’t see, and said, “I notice things, I dunno. I just assumed you were saying goodnight or something, but the massage makes more sense.”

“Right, yeah,” Lance said hastily, a little _too_ hastily. “Nightly massages, they’re awesome. Chiquita’s the real MVP.”

Keith furrowed his brow. Lance was…Lance was _lying_. “I’m glad you’re doing better,” he replied, keeping his tone neutral with effort. “Hey, I think we’re almost to the checkpoint.”

“Finally!” Lance crowed, and that was the end of their conversation.

But it was not the end of Keith’s suspicion.

*

That night, he waited in an alcove in the hall, hidden behind a pillar, waiting as Lance left his room and headed down the hall to Chiquita’s. It was a long hall, with vaulted ceilings and intricately carved pillars, and Keith stayed perfectly still as Lance passed his hiding place and continued down. Chiquita’s door was on the end, and the rooms were widely spaced, giving them all some much-needed privacy after months crammed together in the Castle of Lions.

Keith peered out from behind the pillar, eyes narrowing as he watched Lance glance back and forth as if checking to make sure no one saw him. Then he turned the corner and Keith heard the soft thud of a door shutting.

Hoping it wasn’t locked, Keith hurried down the hall after him. He looked cautiously around the corner – Lance was inside, and the door was closed but not locked. Holding his breath, Keith opened it slowly and slipped inside. The room was, thankfully, set up like the other guest rooms – there was a little antechamber, a front hall that allowed Keith to enter the room unseen and tiptoe towards the shadowed archways the led into the room proper.

As he got closer, he heard…something. A wet sound, like squelching mud or Silly Putty…intrigued, Keith carefully peeked around the corner and into the room, with no idea of what to expect.

Keith stared. And stared. And _stared._

His brain wasn’t processing what it was seeing all that well. Because it was – because Lance was –

Well. Lance was pinned up against the far wall by a wriggling multitude of tentacles, completely naked, and very, very hard.

His cock was jutting up and dripping down onto the tendrils that encircled it, which stroked it slowly and flicked over the head with quick, practiced movements. Lance must have been moaning, must have been making some noise, but it was muffled almost entirely by the tentacle fucking his mouth. That was the only word Keith could think of to describe the way the slick, wide length of it pumped past Lance’s stretched lips, and he couldn’t tell if the liquid dribbling out of Lance’s mouth was saliva or the plant’s juices. 

Keith was horrified.

Horrified, and undeniably turned on.

He hated himself a little bit. Because – Lance was being violated by his touchy-feely tentacle alien plant. Right? That was – that was the only possible explanation – but the longer Keith stared, the more he realized that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Lance wasn’t _struggling_ – he was completely relaxed even though the tentacles were tightening around his forearms and thighs, lifting him up higher, spreading his legs wider. His lashes were fluttering and when the tentacle in his mouth slipped out, smearing white across his jaw, he licked his lips and kept his mouth open for more, eagerly sucking around the thicker tentacle that took the first one’s place. 

He kept swallowing, Keith could see the bob of his throat, and blurrily Keith wondered what the plant’s cum tasted like. It must have been _good_ , for Lance to be swallowing so much –

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, nope, he was not doing this; he was absolutely not fantasizing about this.

No sooner had he thought that, though, Lance made a sound so loud even the tentacle facefucking couldn’t smother it, and came in a bright white splatter, _hard_. Keith sucked in a sharp breath and covered his mouth hastily, still hidden in the shadows of the archway, his eyes huge as he watched the tendrils continue to rub at Lance’s softening cock until he shuddered and whined in the only sign of protest so far, and then…

And then the tentacles very carefully lowered Lance to the ground, and Keith hadn’t thought it was possible to be even _more_ shocked and confused than he currently was, but he was proven very wrong when Chiquita’s other tentacles returned to Lance with fresh towels and began cleaning him off. 

It wasn’t an aloof, perfunctory gesture, either – Chiquita took her time, and the tentacles that weren’t toweling Lance off were _petting_ him, stroking gently at his face and the languid curve of his spine. Lance smiled weakly and petted them back. There was familiarity between them, and if Keith wasn’t mistaken, _fondness_. Deep fondness.

This had happened before. This had happened many, many times before.

_Every night._

Keith turned on his heel and ran out as fast as he could.

He did not see the tendrils swaying knowingly, tasting his arousal and shame in the air.

*

He burst into the room he and Shiro shared, had barely enough thought to make sure the door was closed behind him, and shook Shiro awake. Shiro rolled over and grunted, eyes still shut, though Keith knew Shiro was as light a sleeper as he was and was definitely awake. “Shiro. Shiro, babe, wake up, _wake up_!”

Shiro’s eyes blinked reluctantly open and he blindly reached out, wrapping his left arm around Keith’s waist and drawing him closer to the bed. “Hmm, wassup?” he mumbled.

Keith exhaled shakily. He might as well just spit it out. “LanceishavingsexwithChiquita.”

Shiro blinked, slightly more alert, and then yawned and said, “Uh-huh. I’m aware. Unfortunately…”

Keith froze. Shiro knew the moment he’d fucked up when Keith stared down at him incredulously, leaning closer until their noses were touching. “What do you mean,” Keith gritted out, “‘ _you’re aware_ ’?”

Shiro licked his lips nervously. “I’m aware of the situation,” he said.

“You _knew_ Lance was fucking his _plant_?!” Keith half-shrieked.

“Shh, shh, not so loud,” Shiro cautioned. Keith gawked at him and Shiro sighed, shaking his head in defeat and sitting up, scooting over so Keith could climb onto the bed next to him. Keith did so, waiting for an explanation because – Shiro knew. How?!

His confused panic must have shown on his face because Shiro gave him an apologetic look and said, “Lance didn’t want me to tell anyone. For obvious reasons. And before you ask…I found out nine months ago, when Slav classified Chiquita as a Friendly Vine. Lance was freaking out about how Friendly Vines reproduce – which is just via flowers, luckily – and I put two and two together.”

Keith groaned.

“Pun not intended,” Shiro added hastily. “But, yeah, I called him out, he begged me not to tell anyone and obviously I wasn’t gonna tell the rest of the team…at first I was worried that Chiquita might hurt him, but I don’t think she _ever_ has, or ever will. It’s not… _that_ strange, if you think about it. Aliens and humans can have relationships. I mean, you’re here, so…case in point.”

Keith flopped back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. “Shiro, last time I checked I’m not a tentacle sex plant, thanks very much.”

“Our loss,” Shiro said.

Keith hoped he was joking. “Excuse me?” he said.

Shiro cleared his throat. “Nevermind. Bad joke. Um.” He glanced over at Keith. “So, wait, how did you find out?”

“I followed Lance,” Keith said miserably. “I knew he was lying about what he did in Chiquita’s room every night, so I went to go see what it was and…”

“Oh, god,” Shiro said, eyes wide. “Are you traumatized?”

“Mildly,” Keith said, finally tucking himself against Shiro’s side. He could never stay mad at Shiro for long. Shiro wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. “Okay, yeah, pretty traumatized. I’m never going to be able to look at him or Chiquita the same way again.”

“At least I’m not alone in knowing anymore,” Shiro murmured.

“Yeah, great, we can judge him together,” Keith snorted.

“Well…I’m not sure we should be _judging_ him.” Keith gave him a quizzical look. Shiro bit his lip. “He’s happy, Keith. Happier than he was before Chiquita, definitely.”

“But his happiness comes at the cost of tentacle sex?!”

“I don’t think Lance sees it as a cost,” Shiro said. “More like an added bonus. I’m pretty sure Lance was the one who initiated the sexual aspect to their relationship, not Chiquita, although clearly she’s onboard with it too.”

Keith flushed. “He…did seem like he was enjoying himself.”

Shiro scrunched up his nose. “ _Great,_ thanks for sharing.”

“Sorry, I’ll spare you the details,” Keith said. “But…all this time, you knew – and you still let Chiquita draw on your arm and give you massages?!”

Shiro shrugged. “Yeah, why not? The only one she touches sexually is Lance, and she’s aware you and I are already an item.”

“But,” Keith said. “The same tentacles…that were around Lance’s dick…could’ve been on your back…”

Shiro spluttered and smacked him with a pillow. “I thought you said you’d spare me the details!”

“Aren’t you freaked out by that?!”

“I try not to think about it!” Shiro exclaimed. “I just appreciate Chiquita’s masseuse skills; I don’t need to think about the other stuff. And neither do you, okay? Out of sight, out of mind, it’s easier that way. And…please don’t give Lance grief about it. He was really embarrassed when I found out and –”

“I’m not going to say anything about this to Lance!” Keith yelped. “If I did that, then I’d have to admit I was a total creeper!”

“Not a total creeper, you were just curious,” Shiro said lightly. “I mean, you left right away, once you saw what was going on.” He paused. “Right?”

“Right, of course,” Keith stammered. “I literally ran out of there, Shiro, I ran all the way here.”

“So you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” Shiro said, patting his back. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“I know you won’t,” Keith mumbled, pressing his face to Shiro’s chest to hide his blush, because he did, in fact, have plenty to be ashamed of. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about Laquita,” Shiro shot back.

Keith snickered. “Laquita. Wow. So are they…dating? Is that even possible?”

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. “I think so. But I don’t know if they’re exclusive, per se.”

“Hmph,” Keith said. “I’d think if Lance ever tried to date someone else, they’d find out about Chiquita sooner or later, and then…”

“And then?” Shiro prompted.

“I dunno,” Keith sighed. “I just think they’d be upset, or disgusted, or both. And Lance probably knows that.”

“Hmm,” Shiro mused, voice sleepy again. “You think Lance has resigned himself to the long-term with just Chiquita?”

“Maybe,” Keith said. “I just…that kind of sucks for him. You know? I guess alien tentacles have some inexplicable appeal for Lance, but if it were me, I’d miss human contact eventually. I wouldn’t just want tentacles forever.”

“The appeal isn’t…that inexplic…able,” Shiro mumbled, slumping down onto the pillows and starting to close his eyes again.

Keith blinked and poked him. “What?”

“Tentacles,” Shiro yawned, snuggling more into Keith and pulling him down to lie fully on the bed, chest to chest with his arm draped over Keith’s waist. “They’re…hmm…interesting.”

Keith frowned at him, even though Shiro’s eyes were fully shut and his breath was evening out again. “You think tentacles are interesting.”

“Don’t you?” Shiro mumbled, nuzzling into his hair. “Just…think about it. Flexible…and easy…”

Keith’s blush darkened. What the _fuck?_ “Shiro…you need to sleep,” he murmured, embarrassed on Shiro’s behalf.

“Mmm,” Shiro agreed, and kissed his forehead before drifting off again.

But Keith did think about it.

He thought about it a lot.

*

Keith was aware he was avoiding Lance. But he honestly couldn’t even look him in the eye, not after what he’d seen, not after what Shiro had told him. Every time he saw Lance, all he could think of was his expression of desperate bliss as the tentacles corkscrewed around his cock and plunged down his throat. That would’ve been bad enough, but even worse, Keith kept noticing how _pretty_ Lance was. It was infuriating.

Keith had always known, subconsciously, that Lance was attractive – he’d just never paid much mind to it because Lance bragged about his appearance plenty already. And also, he had Shiro, and Shiro was easily the absolute pinnacle of beauty in Keith’s mind.

But Lance was…beautiful in different ways. He smiled way more than Shiro, and every time he did it lit up the room. He wasn’t as tall and broad as Shiro but he had muscle, shifting lean and lithe under his shining brown skin as he stretched during Hunk’s morning yoga sessions, his hipbones sharp and defined, his belly flat and smooth, oddly hairless. Keith had never noticed that before, but Lance must wax, or shave, or something – the only hint of hair was a faint shadow when his waistband rode down, and Keith already knew it went further down.

Already knew, because he was an awful, awful person.

But Lance didn’t know what Keith had done, and Keith was determined to keep it that way…yet the temptation to watch him again was a constant presence in Keith’s mind. It would be so easy. Too easy. Keith knew that was crossing a line – several lines, in fact. He had a _boyfriend_. A boyfriend of ten months who he loved very much. Keith and Shiro had been together even longer than that, if you counted all the close calls and awkward flirting for years before that, which Keith did.

But Shiro had been acting differently too. He blushed more often, and on more than one occasion Keith had to repeat sentences to him, he was just…distracted. And Keith didn’t understand, didn’t know what the source of the distraction could be, until he realized whenever Shiro acted funny, _Lance was nearby._

It was a coincidence. It had to be.

But Keith didn’t know what to think when he found Shiro and Lance sparring one afternoon in a secluded palace courtyard, hand to hand combat, both shirtless; Lance grinning and Shiro panting as he finally managed to flip Lance onto his stomach and pin him to the ground under him. There was a moment; a long, long moment, during which Shiro hesitated. He didn’t help Lance up immediately – he just _looked_ at the sweaty line of his bare back, lips parted, pupils dilated. And Lance let him.

Keith cleared his throat from the archway, his heart pounding. Shiro wouldn’t. He wouldn’t, he wasn’t – he wasn’t like that. Sure enough, Shiro startled away from Lance at once and whirled to face Keith, his face distinctly guilty. Lance hopped up with not an ounce of contrition, beaming at Keith before patting Shiro’s Galra arm and sauntering off.

Keith didn’t say anything when Shiro approached him, his eyes said enough. “He asked me to teach him some new moves,” Shiro said, wincing when Keith set his jaw. “Keith – nothing happened, I swear, I would never.”

Keith’s gaze flicked up to him. “Promise?” His voice was quiet, but firm. He already knew it was true, but he just had to hear Shiro say it, to be sure.

Shiro nodded earnestly. “Yes. Of course, I promise. Keith, I’m yours, I love you, okay?”

“And Lance?”

Shiro faltered, confused and a little wary. “Lance? What about Lance?”

_I see the way you look at him. I look at him the same way. Maybe we should do something about that._

But Keith just said, “It would make me feel better if you chose a less private location for sparring sessions next time. That’s all.”

“Understood.” Shiro’s face softened and cleared. “Hey. C’mere, you.”

And when he tipped up Keith’s chin and kissed him deep and gentle and familiar, Keith could almost forget about the hot, dark want in Shiro’s eyes when he’d had Lance under him.

Keith could almost forget about the heat stirring in his belly when he’d watched Lance come.

Keith could almost forget how much he wanted to see Lance come again.

Almost.

*

If Keith was avoiding Lance, he was trying to avoid being on the same goddamn plane of existence as Chiquita. Keith couldn’t even bring himself to participate in the massage sessions anymore, and Shiro gave him sympathetic looks because he _knew_ , or at least he thought he knew. See, the issue was not exactly that Keith was disgusted by Chiquita and her oozing tentacles.

The issue was that he was becoming increasingly _less_ disgusted by them.

Chiquita was visibly distressed by Keith’s apparent aversion to her. Lance even tried to ask Keith about it.

“Dude, I thought you got over this,” Lance said as Keith continued walking, desperately trying to lose him. He’d walk straight to his Lion if he had to, he’d fly to a new galaxy, he was _not_ going to stop and chat with Lance about this, nope. Lance hissed out a frustrated breath. “Why do you hate Chiquita?! Is it the drawing thing again, or the massage thing, or what?”

“It’s fine,” Keith said, still not looking at him, still booking it out of there. “I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Well then what? Did she do something else?”

“No, she didn’t – it’s nothing, Lance.”

“There’s gotta be some reason –”

“Would you just drop it already?” Keith exclaimed, finally turning to him and knowing his face was red. “I’m not mad at Chiquita. I am kinda mad at you for inviting Shiro to three more private sparring sessions this week, though.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “Wha – dude, we’re just sparring! And it’s not private, not since the courtyard, I swear!”

Keith narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “With you, it’s never ‘just’ anything.”

Lance flinched hard. “I…shit, man, do you want me to stop sparring with Shiro?” He looked wounded and nervous and sounded painfully apologetic, and that was not the reaction Keith had expected from him at all.

And then it was Keith’s turn to feel guilty, because he was hardly innocent in all of this. Lance might have extended the questionable invitation and Shiro might have accepted it; but Keith was the secret accidental voyeur who was considering a repeat offense. And he was pretty sure that was much worse.

Keith turned away. “No,” he said. “It’s fine. I trust Shiro.”

“You and I could spar too, if you wanted,” Lance called as Keith walked away again. “Keep the rivalry alive, and all that!”

“We’re not rivals,” Keith replied, and Lance was silent as he left.

*

But of course, before he could reach the Red Lion’s hangar and fly away from his problems for a little while, he just had to run into Chiquita.

Literally – the plant came careening around the corner on her stupid scooter and Keith saw the moment she overbalanced, knew that taking a step back wouldn’t get him out of her way fast enough, and crashed to the ground as the heavy bulb slammed into his chest and sent them both tumbling.

Keith lay there for a second, stunned, and also struggling to breathe because Chiquita was _heavy_ , the bulb was easily twice his size and warm against him, the ridged edges of its three segments lined with translucent protrusions a finger-length long. They looked like the hairs on a Venus fly trap, but rounder, and obviously bigger. More alarmingly, though, the bulb was sort of…pulsing, like a heartbeat, or lungs, and Keith squirmed under it, shoving violently until the bulb rolled off of him and he could scramble to his feet.

His first instinct was just to get the hell away, but then he remembered Chiquita wasn’t the best at moving around on her own. He paused several feet away, turning back around to face the fallen plant. For a giant tentacle alien, Chiquita looked pretty pathetic right then. The bulb was lying on its side and all the tentacles were uselessly trying to push it upright, only managing to roll it along, in the exact opposite direction of the scooter, no less.

Keith huffed and threw up his hands in exasperation, stomping back over to her to help.

But Chiquita cowered, tentacles curling inwards and away from him, the bulb pulsing faster and more erratically as if…frightened. Chiquita was scared of him?

Keith swallowed, and held up his gloved hands palms up. “Not gonna hurt you,” he muttered, and the tentacles unfurled slightly, uncertain. They “watched” him as he retrieved the scooter and placed it beside the bulb, all of them flinching in unison when Keith touched the bulb with a grimace. 

It felt like skin. Slimy, thick skin, but skin nonetheless. He pushed that thought away and hefted the bulb upright, back onto the scooter, his shoulders straining at the weight, noticing that the tentacles helped as best they could in supporting it.

When he’d gotten the bulb safely back onto the scooter, he folded his arms and said, “You gotta be more careful on that thing. It’s not really meant for you to go drag racing through the palace.”

Chiquita’s tentacles quivered, still turned towards him. Then she wrote on the nearest wall, _thank you, Keith._

Keith furrowed his brow. “Uh-huh. Don’t mention it.” He turned to go again and stilled when a tentacle curled loosely around his arm. He gritted his teeth. “Let go.”

The tentacle stroked at his inner wrist, as if to say, _Why?_

Keith jerked his arm away with unnecessary force and the tentacle released its grip, retreating hastily. He glanced over his shoulder at the plant, which was cowering again. “Is this your fault?” he snapped. “Are you the one who gave Lance the idea to get Shiro alone with him? First the drawings, then the massages, now sparring?”

Chiquita wrote, _we did not mean to upset you_.

“Then what did you mean?” Keith whispered, shaking his head. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that? You and Lance.”

Chiquita froze for a moment. Then wrote, _me and Lance?_

“Stop it,” Keith said miserably. “Just stop it already!”

Chiquita’s tentacles drooped. She wrote, _i am sorry_ and Keith stared at it in disbelief, and then at her.

 _Lance and i want you and Shiro to be happy,_ she added.

“We were – we are happy,” Keith snapped. “What are you on about?”

 _you do not like me,_ Chiquita wrote. _but you do like Lance._

Keith’s eyes widened. “Erase that, right now!” He lunged for the wall, but the tentacles beat him to it, wiping the words away like they never existed. He stood there in front of Chiquita, breathing hard, flushed and panicky. “I don’t,” he said. “I can’t like Lance, you stupid plant!”

_i am very smart, Keith. and you can. you do._

Keith shook his head, another denial on the tip of his tongue.

It fizzled away into sheer wordless horror as Chiquita wrote, _you would not have stayed to watch if you did not like Lance._

He went very pale and stumbled away. “Oh, fuck,” Keith said.

 _yes_ , Chiquita wrote.

“You knew,” Keith said, choked. “You – how – I –”

_i’m sure we put on a good show._

Keith gulped. “You can’t tell him,” he gasped, “please, don’t – don’t tell him –”

 _i have not told him,_ Chiquita wrote, the end of the ‘m’ trailing off in a sly way. _it’s our secret, Keith._

Keith gaped at her. “What…”

 _come tonight,_ Chiquita wrote. _pun intended._

Keith’s brain was imploding. Lance’s tentacle plant was flirting with him and making sex puns. “I…I can’t,” he breathed, barely audible.

_why not?_

“You know damn well why not!”

 _Shiro will be there afterwards,_ Chiquita wrote. Keith’s blood went molten. _and you will want to go to him afterwards..._

Keith licked his dry lips. “You are a terrible plant,” he told her.

_…and he will be so glad you did._

“Fine!” Keith hissed through his teeth. “I’ll – I’ll do it, I’ll come, ugh.”

The tentacles curled, looking suspiciously smug. _you will not be disappointed, Keith._

“I hate space,” Keith informed her, and promptly stormed off to either fly Red around the planet a few times or launch himself directly into the void.

He settled on the first option, but it was a tough call.

*

Keith had never felt so dirty in his life.

He almost hadn’t done it. He’d almost been a good boyfriend and a good person and stayed in bed with Shiro instead of sneaking off to watch live tentacle porn featuring none other than Lance Espinosa himself.

Almost.

But in the end he hadn’t, and now he was hidden behind the archway again, watching. _Afterwards,_ he told himself firmly, but he was pretty sure Chiquita was doing her best to keep him focused on the present.

Because in the present, the plant had Lance suspended ten feet above the floor, taking full advantage of the vaulted ceiling to reach up as high as she could. And the longest tentacles were very, very long – twenty or thirty feet, Keith would guess, and some were as thick around as the stone pillars in the hall – and yet they were very careful with Lance.

Keith couldn’t help but be captivated by the way they moved over and around his body, supporting Lance in effortless nets and loops and harnesses, never putting too much stress on any part of him. They all seemed to have their different functions – some tentacles were just for supporting, some were supporting and petting, some were teasing at Lance’s neck and nipples like sucking mouths, some were taking turns smearing glowing blue over his parted lips, some were wriggling teasingly around his hardening cock, and...ah.

Some were pressing inside of him.

Keith covered his mouth. Chiquita had angled herself and Lance so that he had an appallingly good view of the thin tendrils opening Lance up, squirming between his thighs and spreading them wider. Keith’s hand clamped tighter over his mouth – Lance was _really_ flexible. The tentacles kept widening the stance of his legs and it didn’t seem to hurt Lance at all, he just whined and arched eagerly into it.

The tendrils were encouraged by this and wriggled deeper, seeping blue slickness all over Lance’s thighs and ass, pushing it inside of him. Keith bit his lip hard, feeling his own body respond at the sight. The hand that wasn’t covering his mouth slowly slid down to his tenting jeans, and he bit his lip harder as he started to palm his dick through the fabric.

Lance twisted and whimpered as tendrils plucked playfully at his nipples and painted his ribs in long stripes of blue, his head thrown back, made even more gorgeous in his ecstasy. Then the tendrils stretched him open, and Keith stared helplessly at his gaping hole, dripping with ooze and pink from the tendrils’ teasing. The rim fluttered as Lance squirmed impatiently, held fast by the larger tentacles, and then Keith’s attention was diverted to the floor by a sudden strange movement.

The bulb was opening. Keith blinked, uncomprehending, as the petal-shaped sections unfurled and several larger tentacles emerged. The largest of which, larger than any of the others, was unmistakably a dick. A huge tentacle dick. Keith’s gaze flicked from it to Lance’s waiting hole and thought, _No way._ The thing was wider than Shiro’s shoulders, for fuck’s sake, unless Lance had like, an unhinging asshole –

But his alarmed thoughts tapered off into incomprehension as the tentacle dick slithered under Lance’s body, curling once over and around his torso to press the pink, rounded tip to Lance’s face. Lance nuzzled at it like they were old pals and the tentacle dick nuzzled back and Keith slumped against the pillar, faint, too many thoughts rushing through his mind at once.

That – that bulb had fallen _on top of him_ that afternoon. And it was full of _tentacle dicks._

Literally – the two other new tentacles were also distinctly cock-shaped, though they were smaller than the first one and were not light green like the others, or olive-colored like the big one. The thicker of the two was such a dark green it might as well have been black, its twisting, veiny length shining with slick iridescence and the fat, dark pink head oozing pearly beads of precum. The thinner tentacle was a paler yellow-brown, almost gold, shimmering with clear ooze, with a tapered, coral pink head and a ribbed length, the underside covered in bumps that pulsed as it curled.

Lance and Keith both watched as the black and gold tentacles brushed tips as if in greeting before winding around one other tightly. Together, they stroked and rubbed and Lance’s squirming increased as the tentacles played with each other, and Keith’s breath shallowed as he realized why Chiquita had wanted him there tonight.

Black and gold.

_Shiro and Keith._

Keith barely muffled his curse against his hand, finally setting aside any semblance of decency and control he had left and shoving his hand down his pants and into his briefs, stroking his hard cock and choking back a whimper when the black tentacle squeezed the golden one hard enough for it to twitch and ooze a slow dribble of precum before releasing it altogether. The golden tentacle curled at once to Lance’s hole, prodding at the rim and dipping its slender tip inside just so; seeming to delight in the way Lance bucked and kicked and begged for more shamelessly.

Lance was shameless, fuck, he was so far gone Keith didn’t even think Lance would _care_ if he saw Keith watching right now.

Then the golden tentacle relented and fucked into him and Lance’s shout echoed off the walls and ceiling, and Keith fucked his fist to the sound. Lance turned his face into the head of the big tentacle cock as the golden one fucked him mercilessly, and Keith’s mind snagged on the way the ridged sides caught and pulled on Lance’s rim with every outwards thrust and rubbed smoothly against it on every thrust in. _How did that feel,_ he wondered, _did it hurt?_

Lance’s noises were not hurt. He was moaning and writhing on the golden tentacle and his cock wasn’t even being touched anymore, but he looked like he was already about to come. The noises the golden tentacle made as it pumped in and out of Lance’s body were wet and obscene and as loud as his moans. His thighs were covered in blue fluid and gleaming with sweat and the black tentacle, which had been observing the golden one from a few feet away, curled between Lance’s legs to make him even messier and cover itself in the residual ooze.

Lance gasped at the touch and nodded frantically, babbling, “Please, please, please –!” and Keith didn’t know what he was pleading for until the black tentacle conceded and pushed in alongside the gold one.

Keith absolutely could not have stopped the low whimper from leaving his mouth even if he’d tried.

Lance’s scream was cut off by two tentacles filling his mouth as the black and golden ones filled his ass, wriggling against each other for a few moments before finding a rhythm, starting slow enough to let Lance’s body adjust and quickly picking up the pace, never leaving Lance empty. He was stretched so wide around them, and yet he just kept trying to get them deeper, rocking his hips into their thrusts and flexing his legs, crying out again when the tentacles forced his thighs wider and pushed him upright so he was sitting on the two tentacle cocks.

Keith was panting, his body flushed with heat. With Lance now vertical, Keith could see the way his stomach bulged outwards every time the black tentacle fucked in deep, and he could see the tendrils looping tight around the base of Lance’s throbbing cock like a ring, keeping him on the edge of orgasm. He could see the sharp profile of Lance’s face as he swallowed another round of ooze and then Lance squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed, as the golden tentacle began to shudder and falter in its movements.

This just spurred the black tentacle on further, and Lance’s stomach bulged once, twice, three times before the golden tentacle spasmed, the black tentacle pulled out, and Lance sobbed and arched as he was filled with cum. Keith bit into his palm, the head of his cock twitching against his fingers. Lance was still hard and begging, and when the golden tentacle withdrew, white ooze gushed out, at least until the black tentacle shoved it back in and went right back to fucking Lance relentlessly.

Lance was keening on every thrust now, tossing his head back, toes curling when the black tentacle pulsed, swelling visibly wider before following the golden one’s lead and coming hard. The tendrils let go of Lance’s cock and he came in an arc, splattering onto the floor not three feet from where Keith was hidden. Keith squeezed his cock so hard it hurt. He’d never been this turned on in his life, he was almost dizzy from it, and as soon as he thought of Shiro the burning ache got even worse.

Lance went limp, Chiquita guided him back down, and the golden tentacle watched Keith stumble away and out the door.

*

He shook Shiro awake after he’d stripped down to his briefs, the cool air doing little to soothe the heat of his skin. Shiro looked at him in confusion, and then in shock when he took in Keith’s appearance. 

Keith shoved down his underwear. “Wha…?” Shiro tried to sit up, blinking away sleepiness, and Keith pushed him back down. Shiro went, his eyes widening as Keith threw back the sheets and climbed atop him, pressing his hardness against Shiro’s stomach. “Keith?” Shiro breathed, brows drawing together. “Are you –”

“Shhh,” Keith whispered back, frantic, cupping his face and smoothing his fingers over his stubble, trying to calm himself and doing the complete opposite. “Can I ride you? I wanna ride you.”

Shiro gawked at him. “I – right now? It’s – what time even is it – nngh!”

Keith mouthed at his nipple, knowing it was the fastest way to get him hard, nipping at it and licking messily until the flesh peaked under his tongue. Sure enough, he felt Shiro’s dick stirring against his ass when he pressed back purposefully. “Yes?” he asked, grinding onto it and tugging a groan from Shiro’s throat, his hands lifting to pet clumsily at Keith’s bare hips.

“ _Yes_ , okay, fuck, but why –”

“Want you,” Keith said, pressing shivery kisses to the line of his neck, kneading at his chest and then lower, sliding his palms down familiar scars and muscles and pushing down Shiro’s sweats, pleased when his cock bobbed free. “Mmm, you want me too,” Keith chuckled into his ear, witnessing Shiro shudder all over in response. “Were you hoping something like this would happen tonight, hmm?”

“I – was honestly just too lazy to bother with boxers but – if this is the result –”

Keith kissed him and the rest of the sentence was lost in Shiro’s soft moan, his hand curling firmly into Keith’s hair as Keith’s mouth opened to Shiro’s, and as they kissed Keith fumbled blindly for the lube until Shiro realized his dilemma and laughed, breaking the kiss to help him look. Shiro stopped laughing when Keith found the bottle, uncapped it with a loud click, and poured it into his hand, wasting no time in sliding two slick fingers inside himself and twisting, his muscles protesting; he didn’t care. Shiro’s fingers tightened on his hips, near-bruising.

“Keith – don’t hurt yourself –”

Keith stared down at him, hair hanging into his face, feeling punch-drunk and feverish. “What if I want to,” he hissed, and Shiro’s lips parted in astonishment. “I wanna feel you,” he continued, barely even knowing what he was saying, “I want you to fuck me until I’m wide open and crying and begging and everybody knows I’m yours.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Shiro whispered, his scar nearly hidden by his blush.

“Say it,” Keith growled, working another finger inside himself and imagining the tentacles, imagining rough ridges sliding inside him, rubbing into his softest parts until he came apart just like Lance had. “Say it, Shiro, say I’m yours –”

“You’re mine, baby,” Shiro said, hand smoothing up his spine and making Keith shiver. “You are, you know you are…”

“Say it while I’m sitting on your cock,” Keith ordered.

Shiro’s eyes glinted. “Then sit on my cock already.”

Keith groaned, nodding hastily, and despite Shiro’s taunt he was gentle as Keith straddled him and his hands settled on Keith’s thighs, squeezing lightly. Keith knew he was confused, and maybe even worried, but he also knew that Shiro wanted this as desperately as he did and so he didn’t hesitate before sinking down onto Shiro’s cock, whimpering just like he had when the tentacles had breached Lance.

“You’re mine,” Shiro repeated, low and raspy with arousal, and Keith whined in agreement, already rocking down onto him, forcing him deeper. Shiro swore, tried to still Keith’s hips, but Keith would not be stopped, and continued down, ignoring the slight stab of pain, and yet focusing on it, needing it, tipping his head back to the ceiling because he couldn’t look at Shiro, suddenly.

His ass pressed against Shiro’s balls much sooner than usual and Shiro grunted, chest rising and falling unevenly under Keith’s absently stroking hands. “Keith,” he managed, reaching up for Keith’s face, trying to tilt his head back down, “Keith, hey…”

Keith shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he gasped, more to convince himself than Shiro. “Fuck – fuck, you’re so fucking big, I –” His head lolled to the side and he was stupidly grateful for Shiro’s hand cupping his jaw. He turned his face into it, inhaling, breathing hot and damp against Shiro’s soft palm. “Fuck,” he whispered again, helpless, hopeless, because even though it was Shiro inside of him, Shiro under him, Shiro in his bed, Lance’s face would not leave his thoughts.

“Do you wanna stop?” Shiro said, so quiet in the darkness. Keith’s heart broke just that much more. How could he have done this to Shiro; Shiro who was so much better than Keith ever deserved, Shiro who had never given up on him, never let him down, and never stopped loving him even when Keith knew he should?

“No,” Keith said, rolling his hips, determined to finish this, because he could make Shiro feel good, he knew how to do that, and Shiro deserved that much. “No, I wanna ride you until you come inside me.”

Shiro’s teeth dug into his lower lip hard. “Okay,” he said after a beat, and hesitantly tilted his hips up towards Keith’s, moving slightly with him and immediately losing any sense of rhythm as Keith grinded down hard and fast, thighs flexing and cock bobbing against his belly when he bounced, lashes fluttering, face still tucked to Shiro’s hand.

“Keith,” Shiro kept saying, soft and frantic and heavy with emotion, and his cock split Keith wide enough to sting but it got better as he moved faster, and even better when Shiro wrapped his other hand around Keith’s leaking dick. Keith kissed Shiro’s palm and everything blurred, his eyes watering, the ache in his body nothing compared to the ache in his heart.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered back, and folded down atop him when Shiro pulled him in for a kiss, mewling into Shiro’s mouth as the friction sent him over the edge. He felt Shiro come, too, heard Shiro gasp his name and felt Shiro’s hand on his ass, fingers dipping to where cum had begun to drip out, rubbing soothingly as Keith trembled. Keith also knew he was checking for blood, and Keith knew there was none, although part of him wished there had been.

Keith hid his face in Shiro’s neck because he was a coward, and Shiro let him because he was too good not to. They breathed together, and Shiro said, “Are you alright?”

Keith said, “Go to sleep.”

“I was asleep,” Shiro pointed out, carefully lifting Keith off of him and catching the mess with a mostly-clean towel from the floor, only letting go when Keith was clean.

He was still sore, though, and still hated himself. Nothing a towel could do to fix that.

Shiro sighed, and pulled Keith close to his chest, and because Keith was weak he melted into it and kissed Shiro one last time, savoring the feeling of being safe and loved for as long as he could. “I’ll be fine,” Keith mumbled. Shiro made a quiet, sad sound.

“You _did_ hurt yourself, then.”

“Please go to sleep,” Keith pleaded, closing his eyes. “In the morning, okay? We can talk in the morning.”

_I can ruin this in the morning._

Shiro sighed. “Alright. Goodnight, Keith.”

“Goodnight,” Keith whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Keith said, eyes still shut, “so, so much.”

Shiro kissed his brow and held him close.

*

Unfortunately, the morning came eventually.

Shiro was already awake and getting dressed, and shot Keith a smile over his shoulder after he’d pulled a shirt on. “Morning, sleepyhead. Feeling any better?”

Keith stretched. _Nope._ “A little,” he lied, sitting up and looking at Shiro. Shiro raised an eyebrow. “I said we could talk in the morning,” Keith reminded him.

Shiro’s smile fell. “Oh,” he said. “Right, sure, what did you want to talk about?” He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Keith earnestly.

“I’m really sorry,” Keith said, unable to meet his gaze. He kept his eyes on the pair of socks he’d tossed half-under the bed and forgotten to wash weeks ago instead. They were ugly socks anyway.

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. “For what, Keith?”

“I…” Keith swallowed. “Do you remember,” he said, “when I told you I saw Lance and Chiquita, and you asked if I’d left right away, and I said I ran out?”

Shiro’s grip loosened, uncertain. “Yes…”

“I didn’t,” Keith said. “I didn’t leave right away, Shiro. I stayed, and watched, and then I ran out.”

Shiro was silent. Processing, or angry, Keith didn’t know, but he continued anyway.

“And I did it again last night,” Keith told him. “I stayed and watched Lance get fucked and I got hard from watching and went to you afterwards.”

Shiro’s hand slipped away from his shoulder. Keith swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“I see,” Shiro said, and when Keith finally worked up the courage to look at him he was sitting very still, hands folded in his lap, looking down at them.

“I’m really sorry,” Keith repeated, hating the way his voice broke. “I – I still love you, I just, I fucked up, and –”

“I think maybe we should take a break,” Shiro said.

Keith froze. “Oh.”

Shiro turned to look at him, and he smiled, but it was small and sad. “I’m glad you told me, at least,” he offered, and then sighed, looking away again. “I’m not mad at you, Keith. I just think…some space might be good for us. For both of us.”

Keith’s nails dug into his thighs. “You’re breaking up with me.”

Shiro shook his head. “I wouldn’t call it that. I’m still yours.”

Keith’s heart stuttered painfully. “And I’m yours, Shiro. I always was.”

Shiro sighed again, and closed his eyes briefly as if steadying himself. “Maybe you should find a new room. Your own room. Just for this last week on Taigarana.”

“And after that?” Keith asked, fearing the answer, holding his breath as he waited for it.

“We’ll see, I guess,” Shiro said after a long pause.

Keith let out his breath in a rush. “Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I…okay.”

Shiro touched his shoulder again, lighter than before. “It will be,” he promised.

Keith wanted to believe him.

*

Keith had slept alone for years before Shiro, but he’d grown used to the warmth of another person beside him these past months. It was hard for him to fall asleep in the new bed he’d found down the next hall, far enough away from Shiro’s room that they wouldn’t cross paths too often. He couldn’t get rid of the bags under his eyes and he knew Shiro’s were just as bad, but they didn’t talk about that, or to each other, for that matter.

The rest of the team figured it out pretty quickly.

“Are you and Shiro fighting?” Pidge asked when Keith was finishing his mythology book next to her on the couch.

“No,” Keith said, and kept reading.

“Did you and Shiro…you know?!” Hunk pressed as Keith tried to eat breakfast in peace, to no avail.

“No, I don’t know,” Keith told him.

“I’ve never seen you two like this,” Allura fretted while Keith doodled the birds in the royal gardens.

“Like _what_ ,” Keith sighed.

“Shiro seems awfully glum,” Coran hinted while Keith helped him recalibrate the Castle’s mapping displays.

“Isn’t he always?” Keith retorted.

And then there was Lance. Lance, who caught him leaving his new room and said, “What were you doing in there, huh?”

“It’s my bedroom,” Keith said flatly.

Lance blinked. “But…you share a room with Shiro.”

“Not anymore I don’t,” Keith said, shaking his head and walking away.

Lance caught up and grabbed his arm. His eyes were wide. “Whoa, whoa, wait, what d’you mean _not anymore_? What happened?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Keith said, but there was no venom in his tone. He was too tired for venom.

Lance let go of him. “You guys broke up?”

“Basically,” Keith said, wary.

“Shit,” Lance said, and for once Keith agreed with him. “Is…is there anything I can do?”

“You’ve done enough,” Keith sighed, and Lance’s eyes widened. “I mean…I just mean, I would rather not talk about it, okay? We’re taking a break, not officially exes, if you must know.”

“Okay,” Lance said, biting his lip. “I’m…I’m sorry, man, for what it’s worth. I hope things get better.”

“I hope so too,” Keith said. “Thanks, Lance. For what it’s worth.”

*

Two days before they were set to leave Taigarana, the queen decreed that there would be one hell of a rager to send them off. Taigarans, apparently, were big partiers. Keith wasn’t complaining – he was looking forward to getting absolutely wasted on questionable alien liquor if it meant he could forget everything that had gone wrong for a while. He did, however, remind himself to keep an eye on Shiro to make sure he didn’t drink _too_ much.

It had been a nice thought, but whatever Keith had been drinking was much stronger than he’d anticipated, and he was a tipsy mess barely an hour in. There were Taigarans everywhere, doing their version of dancing and watching him curiously with their eyestalks as he stumbled through the crowd, trying to find a familiar face while not spilling his drink on anyone.

He found Lance, and when Lance slung an arm around his shoulders with a grin, Keith could think of no reason as to why that might be a bad idea. “Heyyy,” Keith slurred, beaming up at him. “You look happy.”

“I am!” Lance declared, ruffling up his hair and laughing when Keith pouted. “You’re all fluffy now, ha!”

“You’re glowing,” Keith informed him seriously, touching Lance’s flushed face. “Pretty.”

“Keith thinks I’m pretty!” Lance half-yelled, giggling when Keith tried to steal his drink. “Nooo, get your own – you have your own, silly!”

“I want more,” Keith complained. He downed the rest of his and looked into the empty cup with a frown. “Where’d it go?”

“You drank it, jeez, even _I_ know that,” Lance said. “How drunk _are_ you?”

“Sooo drunk,” Keith admitted, swaying and laughing when they both almost fell over.

“Saaame,” Lance agreed, and they dissolved into another bout of giggles.

The Taigarans were giving them odd looks.

“I think we’re being judged,” Lance said in a whisper that was too loud to really be a whisper at all.

“I’m judging you,” Keith not-whispered back.

Lance gasped, deeply offended. “Me! Why!”

“Because,” Keith drawled. “You _know_ , duh.”

“I’m innocent of all charges!” Lance exclaimed. “I’m the most innocent; most...most…I’m running out of words.”

“How can you run outta words?” Keith asked doubtfully.

Lance was talking to himself now. “Soy muy puro, y…no, tampoco tengo las palabras en español. Carajo, esa bebida era fuerte…”

Keith watched his lips move in fascination. He liked Lance’s voice, he realized. He’d always liked Lance’s voice, but it was easier to tell when he was saying words Keith couldn’t understand, easier because he could just focus on the rise and fall of his tone and the curl of his tongue and the rising pitch at the end.

Lance blinked at him. “Why’re you staring?”

“I like your voice,” Keith told him honestly, and smiled when Lance turned red. “It’s nice.”

“Pff – well – well, _you’re_ nice!” Lance shot back.

Keith tilted his head. “I am? That’s…the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“That’s not true,” Lance said, frowning and ruffling Keith’s hair again. “I say…or, er, I _think_ nice things about you all the time!”

“I think nice things about you too,” Keith said.

“Awww,” Lance cooed.

There was a crash nearby and both of them startled with extremely delayed reactions.

“Wha…what was that?” Keith mumbled, craning his neck to look through the crowd. Then Shiro stumbled out of the crowd and towards them, and he had two drinks, and Keith loved him, he loved Shiro so much!

“Takashiiii!” Keith exclaimed, and launched himself at Shiro. Shiro looked down at him in mild bewilderment. “You got me a drink!” He grabbed one of the glasses Shiro was holding and Shiro opened his mouth as if to protest before quickly closing it, still confused.

“Shiro, you look _super_ out of it,” Lance said, sidling over and looking him up and down. “How much did _you_ have to drink, big boy?”

Keith patted Shiro’s chest. “Prolly a lot. He’s not a lightweight like meeee.”

Shiro’s face was flushed and his gaze kept flicking from Lance to Keith and then back again. “Yeah,” he finally slurred. “A lot. What’re you doin’, Keith?”

“What does it _look_ like I’m doin’, Shiro,” Keith grumbled, knocking back the new drink and smacking his lips, winding one arm around Shiro’s waist. “Missed you…”

“I…missed you too,” Shiro mumbled. “You wanna…righ’ here?” His hand was already on Keith’s lower back, he was a handsy drunk, it had just been so long since they’d gotten drunk together that Keith had almost forgotten.

“Not right here, pfff, that’s so naughty,” Keith scolded, poking the tip of his nose. “Shiro’s naughty, isn’t he, Lance?”

“Uh-huh,” Lance said, eyes unfocused as he watched them, standing slightly off to the side. Keith frowned. Why was he off to the side? He should be with them, close. Keith grabbed Lance’s wrist and _yanked_ , and suddenly Shiro had both of them up against his chest. “Uhh?” Lance said, blinking at Keith, then at Shiro. He was tense and uncertain, but when neither Keith nor Shiro pushed him away, he relaxed slightly and said to Shiro, “Whoa, dude, you’re really warm.”

“Thanks, Lance,” Shiro said, his chest rumbling with the word. “You’re hot.”

“Shiro!” Keith gasped, but he wasn’t upset, and turned his head against Shiro’s chest to look at Lance, who was gaping at them in disbelief. “It’s true, though.”

“You guys…are really hot too,” Lance whispered, a real whisper this time. “Really…really hot.” His eyes flew wide when Shiro’s Galra arm draped over his shoulders. “Shiro…?!”

“Hmm,” Shiro said, distracted, looking at Lance like he was a puzzle to be solved. His hand finally slid down to Keith’s ass, and he squeezed, and Keith went up on his tiptoes to press a sloppy kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth. Lance’s eyes were on them, heavy and heady, and Keith purred when Shiro nipped at his lower lip, eyes bright and lips curling in a slow smirk as Keith shifted suggestively against his hip.

“Something you wanted, baby?” Shiro chuckled, the sound like low thunder in Keith’s ears, threatening a coming storm. Keith had never been good at avoiding storms. In fact, he seemed to attract them.

“I think there’s something _he_ wants,” Keith murmured, gloved fingers brushing up Lance’s forearm, over his shoulder to settle on his neck, feeling his pulse beat quick, quick, quick. Lance’s pupils were blown and he couldn’t seem to close his mouth.

“Is there something you want, Lance?” Shiro prompted, still smirking, still squeezing. “Or do you just wanna _watch_?”

Lance let out a faint, strangled sound. The noise of the party was distant, muffled, the three of them enclosed in a private bubble of tension and anticipation. For a few moments, they just breathed, and stared at each other, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Lance snapped first, stealing Shiro’s remaining drink and managing to down half of it before Shiro stole it back, jaw hard as he finished it, tongue swiping over his lips when Lance leaned in and said, “I don’t just wanna watch.”

“Then what,” Shiro breathed, breath thick and sugary-sweet, “do you want?”

“You,” Lance admitted, the confession dropping heavy into some unseen pool, ripples spreading outwards around them, forever changed by it – Keith could feel things like that right then. “Both of you. So bad.”

Keith’s fingers curled around the back of Lance’s neck. “Lucky you,” he said. “You have us both right here.”

There was a distant shout from across the room. A name – whose name? Several names. _Their_ names.

“I think,” Shiro said with a look of deep concentration, “Allura is about to yell at us.”

“I think we should leave,” Lance said.

“That’s so smart,” Shiro said, blinking down at Lance and beaming, the sly smirk replaced by a lopsided, dorky grin. “You’re so smart, Lance!”

Lance made a sound like he was in pain and yanked both of them away through the crowd by the arms, away from Allura’s yelling. _Why was she yelling?_ Keith wondered hazily. _They were just having fun_. “Are we not allowed to have fun anymore?” he wondered aloud, accidentally.

“You are always allowed to have fun,” Shiro told him seriously.

Keith kissed him on the cheek. “Hell yeah.”

Lance forgot how to walk when they stumbled out of the crowded courtyard and into a more secluded hallway, his boots skidding on the tiles as he overbalanced, arms pin-wheeling uselessly to stop his fall. With remarkable dexterity for someone who was probably on the verge of alcohol poisoning, Shiro caught him and carried him bridal-style in his arms. Lance said, “Ohhh my god. This is happening.”

Shiro peered down at him and said, “I carried you before. When you were passed out. But you were bleeding more then. You’re not bleeding now. Right? Is he bleeding?”

“I’m not bleeding,” Lance said weakly. “How are you so…aughhh.” He hid his face in Shiro’s shirt.

“He’s strong,” Keith giggled, not really sure how he was still walking but managing nonetheless.

“Uh-huh,” Shiro said, looking to and fro and frowning. “Where’re we goin’?”

“You askin’ me?” Lance mumbled. “I dunno, fuckin…a bed would be nice?”

“A nice bed,” Shiro corrected. “You deserve a nice bed, Lance.”

Lance made another pained sound. Keith said, “I have a nice bed. And Allura can’t find us there; she doesn’t know where it is.”

“Good,” Shiro said. “Sneaky Keith.” He blinked. “Why doesn’t Allura know where your room is?”

“’Cause…” Keith trailed off. He couldn’t actually remember. “Dunno,” he said. “Doesn’t matter, c’mon, chop chop.”

“ _Chop chop_ ,” Lance snickered into Shiro’s shirt. “Who even says that?”

“Oh, I’ll chop chop you,” Shiro said.

“What does that even _mean_ ,” Keith laughed breathlessly as they staggered their way to his room.

“Please don’t chop chop me,” Lance wheezed.

“Okay!” Shiro agreed amiably, which made them all laugh again, and by the time they reached Keith’s door they were all giggly, flushed messes, and they fell onto Keith’s nice bed in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter, and it was mostly an accident when Keith’s mouth met Lance’s.

Lance’s laughter ceased abruptly and he clung to Keith with a sigh of pure relief, lips clumsy but warm and soft as Keith coaxed them open and licked into his mouth, shifting so that Lance was under him, letting Keith kiss him deeper, tasting the alcohol on Lance’s tongue, sweet and sharp and intoxicating. Lance whined when he broke away to breathe, petting Keith’s cheek. “You’re a really good kisser,” he whispered, awed.

“He is,” Shiro agreed, his shadow falling over them, the mattress dipping as he moved in to kiss Lance, too. Keith made himself useful while Shiro was showing off his own above-average kissing skills, unzipping Lance’s jeans and unbuttoning his shirt, kissing and touching the newly-revealed swathes of skin, dark under his hands and soft, as soft as it looked.

Lance’s cock wasn’t soft, though, and he gasped against Shiro’s mouth when Keith exhaled over the clothed outline of his erection, straining up towards his stomach and dampening the fabric at the tip. Once Lance realized he was almost naked he gasped again, and Keith was no longer in the mood for talking so he tugged lightly at the waistband of his purple briefs and said, “Off?”

“Off,” Lance whispered, nodding frantically, his legs splaying open as soon as Keith pulled his briefs down and away. Shiro growled low in his throat and Lance’s throat bobbed with a nervous swallow.

“I think we found ourselves a little slut, Keith,” Shiro murmured, pursing his lips as his eyes traced the shameless spread of Lance’s legs. “Eager, huh?”

“Yes,” Lance said, and squeaked when Keith ducked down to bite at his neck and collarbones, moaning softly when he covered the marks with kisses. Lance was so responsive, so sensitive, it was incredible, and Shiro undressed while Keith explored all the places that made Lance squirm the most. “Keith,” Lance whimpered when Keith licked a path down his chest and considered his cock, tongue darting out to taste the tip, but no further. “Keith, I – I want –”

“What?” Keith asked, tilting his head, curious.

“Please kiss me again,” Lance breathed, and Keith did so happily, not understanding the greedy way Lance clutched at him and kissed him back until it struck him – for all her many talents, Chiquita couldn’t kiss. No wonder Lance was starving for kisses, he hadn’t had any in over a year. Something surged hot and protective and almost angry inside Keith at that thought, and he kissed Lance harder, until Lance was moaning and panting, lashes fluttering when Keith’s kisses continued down his throat and chest.

Shiro’s belt fell to the ground with a loud clink of metal and Lance flinched, relaxing easily when Keith kissed under his jaw before shuffling off of him to give Shiro space. Lance’s breathing was uneven and it caught audibly when Shiro climbed back up onto the bed, cock heavy between his legs, peering down at Lance and running his Galra hand over his inner thigh. Lance jolted at the touch, though Keith knew the metal wasn’t cold; it was as warm as the rest of Shiro, if not warmer. Shiro frowned at his obvious apprehension.

“Lance,” he said.

“Huh,” Lance mumbled, turning his face away, into the pillows.

Keith frowned, too, and poked his chin. “Lance.”

“Lance.”

“Laaaance.”

“Lance…”

“What!” Lance exclaimed, face pink, looking up at the two of them.

“You’re cute,” Shiro told him, like it was the most important, serious thing in the world. Keith agreed, and began nodding solemnly.

Lance blinked. “I thought I was hot; now I’m cute, c’mon, man, make up your mind – eep!”

Shiro was tickling him. “Cute,” he said firmly, “and hot.”

“S – stop, ahahaha – Shiro!” Lance giggled hysterically and thrashed on the bed as Shiro tickled the backs of his legs and armpits mercilessly while Keith attacked his belly and sides, and Lance tried to retaliate, getting a few good tickles in here and there but ultimately surrendering, cackling when Shiro blew a raspberry into his neck. “Eww, oh my god, hah, I can’t even breathe, you guys are monsters –”

“Tickle monsters,” Keith snorted, delighted by the sight of Lance smiling uncontrollably under them. He just wanted Lance to be happy. He wanted Shiro to be happy, too. He looked up, and Shiro was looking back at him, his eyes soft. “Hi,” Keith said.

“Hi,” Shiro replied, and leaned in to kiss him, directly over Lance, who swore quietly when Shiro’s hands crept under Keith’s shirt, sweeping over his ribs and teasing at his nipples before tugging the shirt off and over his head.

“Pants, too,” Keith mumbled against his lips, and Shiro complied enthusiastically. Keith’s freed cock brushed against Lance’s chest and Lance’s hand closed around it and Keith gasped into the kiss, hips pushing forward, seeking friction. “Ah – fuck, Lance – Shiro –”

Shiro nuzzled at his jaw, breath hot, hands hotter. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he, Lance,” Shiro murmured, fingers skimming down Keith’s arched spine.

“Yeah,” Lance whispered, rubbing his thumb over the head of Keith’s cock. “Beautiful…”

Keith met Shiro’s eyes and said, breathless, “You should fuck him.”

Lance groaned. Shiro said, “Beautiful, and filthy.” He looked down at Lance. “But I was thinking the same…”

“Oh,” Lance said, faint. And then, when Shiro moved between his still-spread legs and hooked them over his shoulders, “ _oh_.”

“He likes kisses,” Keith said, wicked, knowing what Shiro had in mind.

“Kisses, huh,” Shiro mused, one metal finger gliding under Lance’s balls and pressing light against his hole. “I can do kisses.”

Lance’s eyes widened. “What’re you – fuck! Oh my god. Oh my _god, Shiro!_ ”

Shiro was good at this, Keith could attest to that, but there was something sort of mesmerizing about watching Shiro open up Lance with his tongue. Lance’s heels dug into Shiro’s back as he moaned and squirmed and Shiro held his hips down while he traced wet circles interspersed with tender, sucking kisses that made Lance sob and shout when Shiro’s tongue pressed in.

Keith hummed, pleased by this turn of events, and stumbled away absentmindedly to find his lube. By the time he returned to the bed with it, Shiro had two fingers inside and Lance was begging. Keith handed Shiro the lube and Shiro lifted his head with a slurping sound to say, “Thanks!”

Keith patted his head in approval and crawled up to the pillows to sit behind Lance, pulling Lance’s head up into his lap and stroking his forehead, making soft shushing sounds as Shiro withdrew his two spit-slicked fingers and replaced them with three lube-slick ones. Lance blinked up at him hazily and pawed at Keith’s face when Keith kissed him, clumsy and upside down but apparently good for Lance nonetheless.

Lance whimpered when Shiro twisted his fingers and Keith murmured, “It’s okay, you’re okay, we’ll take care of you,” and Lance fisted a hand in Keith’s hair and tugged him down for another messy kiss, more desperate than the first.

Shiro was looking at Lance and Keith with furrowed brows as if thinking very intently. Keith raised an eyebrow. Shiro narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, said, “Hmm,” and seemed to come to a decision. He flipped Lance over onto his hands and knees and Lance yelped, his cheek now pressed against Keith’s cock as Shiro’s cock nudged at his hole.

Keith’s eyes widened. “Ohhh,” he said in understanding.

“Yep,” Shiro said, puffing his chest out, very pleased with himself. He palmed Lance’s ass, fitting himself to the curve of Lance’s back, and kissed his shoulder blades. “Mhm? Good?”

“Good,” Lance moaned, turning his face into Keith’s thigh and shuddering. “Please…”

Shiro kissed the nape of his neck and pressed in. Lance trembled, breath warm on Keith’s crotch, and Keith guided his head gently over. Lance didn’t resist when his lips touched the head of Keith’s cock, and then they parted, letting Keith feed his cock in. He moaned around the hard length when Shiro filled him, and tried to go down further, tears pricking at his eyes and throat constricting.

“Lance,” Keith sighed, petting his hair and pulling his head back so he wouldn’t choke. “Pretty, pretty Lance.”

Lance’s eyes squeezed shut and he made another muffled sound around Keith’s cock, his hands sliding up to rest on Keith’s hips and stomach, as if to brace himself. Keith took one of Lance’s hands in his own and brought it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle reverently, and Lance’s mouth went slack, drool pooling down the sides of Keith’s cock and over his balls, darkening the sheets.

Shiro thrust into Lance hard and the bed shook, Lance’s hips moving back to meet his thrusts, Shiro’s fingers digging in hard to his sides, knuckles ivory and muscles flexing with the effort. Keith watched them both, watched Lance smother his sounds on Keith’s cock before Shiro found his prostate and he cried out, panting gratefully when Keith pushed his head away. Lance’s hair was soft and sweaty against his thigh. Keith took his cock in hand, smearing the head over Lance’s swollen lips, Lance’s lashes fluttering.

Shiro was talking, rambling about how good Lance was, how good he felt, how good he looked, how good he was for them, and Lance whined helplessly, mouthing at Keith’s balls and moaning when Shiro started jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

Keith was dizzy, and he didn’t wanna blackout but his head was getting that fuzzy, clouded feeling, and Lance’s face was going in and out of focus, and pleasure was building in his gut and the base of his spine and when Lance licked at his cock desperately and whimpered his name Keith groaned and came all over his face with a hiss, his cock dragging through the mess on Lance’s cheek.

Lance just moaned louder and cleaned up the mess with his tongue until Keith couldn’t take it anymore and kissed him, and Shiro groaned and buried himself deep and came too; came to the sight of Keith kissing Lance’s cum-covered mouth hungrily.

Lance was still hard, mewling when Shiro pulled out and going easily onto his back when Shiro and Keith rolled him back over. Keith couldn’t remember what happened after that, exactly, there were fingers slicked by cum shoving inside where Lance was still loose and Lance’s shouts echoing through the room, cut off by mouths covering his, white cum splattering over brown skin and the gasp Lance made when he came sounding like it was ripped out of his throat.

Then there was quiet, and softness, and warmth, and Keith collapsed against Lance’s side with Shiro’s arm thrown over them both and passed out.

*

Keith awoke feeling like absolute shit.

He didn’t even want to open his eyes because he knew it would be too bright, and his eyelids felt crusted together so he figured it was probably for the best. His head _throbbed_ like he’d fallen down a flight of stairs and knocked it against the landing something fierce, and his tongue was dry and heavy in his sandpaper mouth. 

He was lying on a soft bed with a cold, rumpled sheet thrown over him, which was vaguely worrying...and he was naked. More worrying. He tried not to panic. He thought very hard, even though that just made his head hurt more. _C’mon, Kogane, what shit did you get yourself into this time?_

He wished the question had remained rhetorical, but in an instant, he remembered.

Remembered, and regretted. What shit, indeed. He also realized he wasn’t alone on the bed. Someone else was breathing, close. Keith kept his eyes resolutely shut.

The person sighed. “Keith.” Shiro. “I know you’re awake.”

“No,” Keith argued. “I’m sleeping. Better yet, I’m dying, right here, right now. Goodbye.”

Shiro snorted. “Should’ve known my nihilism would rub off on you eventually.”

Keith cracked his eyes open. Shiro was lying on the other side of the bed, looking at him with an inscrutable expression. There was a Lance-sized space between them, a faint indent on the mattress. Keith looked at it, and then at Shiro.

Shiro shook his head. “He was gone when I woke up.”

Keith rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, swallowing back the taste of cloying alcohol and morning breath. “We fucked up pretty bad, huh.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed. “We did.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith started, but Shiro reached out and touched his hand. Keith stopped.

Shiro’s fingers tangled with Keith’s and he said, “Don’t. I...I should have told you how I felt about him instead of pushing you away when you told me. I was just afraid, and angry with myself, and I didn’t know if you even felt the same way about him or –”

“I did,” Keith said. “I do.” He blinked, and turned his head to look at Shiro. “Wait, how _do_ you feel about him?”

Shiro looked at him helplessly. “The same way I feel about you,” he admitted. 

Keith sucked in a sharp breath. “You love him?”

“I think I could, in time.”

“I think I could, too.”

Shiro exhaled. “We’re idiots.”

“Drunk, bumbling idiots,” Keith agreed, and when he hesitantly shuffled over to Shiro, Shiro didn’t stop him, just tucked his chin atop Keith’s head and sighed again. Keith closed his eyes. “What are we gonna do, Shiro?”

“Die?” Shiro suggested.

“Tempting,” Keith mumbled.

“I wish I’d forgotten everything from last night,” Shiro admitted. “I was _terrible._ ”

“You called Lance a little slut and ate his ass,” Keith reminded him.

“Kill me,” Shiro pleaded. “Put me out of my misery, Keith.”

“Nope, we suffer together,” Keith said. “I told him he had a nice voice and came all over his face before making out with him.”

Shiro sobbed or laughed, Keith wasn’t sure. Maybe both. 

“We’re going to have to talk to him,” Shiro said after several minutes spent wallowing in mutual self-pity and regret. Keith shook his head and burrowed deeper against Shiro’s chest. “Yes, Keith, we do and you know it. No, you can’t hide from this in my pecs. Stop it.”

“I can try,” Keith said, face smushed.

Shiro cupped his cheeks and tilted Keith’s face up to his. “Keith, we have to. We can’t leave it like this.”

“Are we still taking a break?” Keith asked him.

“I think our break lasted all of five days,” Shiro retorted. “I think maybe we suck at taking breaks.”

“I think any couple that’s good at taking breaks is maybe a bad couple and should just break up already,” Keith countered.

Shiro scoffed, but said, “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Are we a bad couple?” Keith asked.

Shiro’s hands carded through Keith’s hair and he bit his lip. “No,” he murmured. “No, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. That hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Keith said quietly. “I wanted Lance, but I wanted you, too.”

“Yeah…” Shiro nodded. “And now?”

“I still want you both,” Keith said. “But I think Lance might hate us.”

“Only one way to find out,” Shiro sighed. “I guess we should swing by his room –”

“No. I know where he is,” Keith said.

*

“I think Chiquita got the best room,” Shiro murmured as they walked inside. The door was unlocked, and Keith wondered if it was on accident, if Lance had run in and slammed it shut behind him with no thought of locks, just seeking refuge in the one place he knew he would find it no matter what.

“It’s a nice room,” Keith agreed, because it was – in the soft morning light, he could better appreciate the vaulted ceiling and the long, high windows that wrapped around the main rotunda. They were made of colored glass, yellow and pink and blue, and the colors mixed with the light to cast over the floor in faint squares of pigment like a patchwork quilt. Ironically, it reminded him of a church, an old medieval cathedral untouched by time and serene in its grandeur.

The room was large and quiet and still, just like Chiquita where she lay curled in its center, tentacles wrapped in a tight sort of shell cradled just above the bulb. The tentacles quivered when Keith and Shiro walked in, but they did not unfurl. One of the tendrils coiled loosely around the bulb slowly extended out, and pointed to the floor in front of Chiquita.

Keith and Shiro looked down. There were words there, written in dried blue ooze.

_we are so sorry. please do not blame Lance. operation boyfriends was my idea, not his, although he cares for you both deeply. we did not mean to hurt you, but we know we have. it was wrong to try to push Lance into a relationship that is already complete. i told him at the start he would not ruin it. i was wrong. we went too far. please accept our apology. it will never happen again._

Shiro and Keith exchanged looks.

There was a sound like a sob, muffled, and a faint sniffle. Shiro stepped forward. “Lance?”

There was a sharp intake of breath and the noises stopped immediately. Chiquita’s tentacles curled tighter, protective. “I’m sorry,” Lance said eventually, and his voice was wrecked, hoarse and thick from crying. “Did – did you read the apology?”

“We read it,” Keith said carefully. “Operation Boyfriends?”

Lance sniffled louder. “It was a stupid name for a stupid thing.”

“Can you…elaborate?” Shiro prompted.

Lance was quiet.

Chiquita’s tendril wrote, _i wanted Lance to have human lovers too. boyfriends._

“Why multiple?” Shiro asked lightly.

 _i have many tentacles,_ Chiquita wrote hastily, seeming almost…embarrassed. _Lance is used to…more. i did not want him to be unsatisfied._

“Thoughtful of you,” Shiro said, while Keith tried to keep a straight face.

_yes well it was not thoughtful to pursue you and Keith. especially Keith. i am sorry, Keith. i talked you into it. you made your dislike clear and i still tried. Lance does not know this. he did not want me to do anything you did not want. please know this._

“You didn’t,” Keith said. “You didn’t talk me into it the first time, Chiquita. That was all me.”

Lance mumbled, “She…didn’t talk you into what?”

“I watched you,” Keith said. “I knew you lied about Chiquita giving you nightly massages so I followed you to her room that night and –”

“YOU DID _WHAT!?_ ” Lance yelped. “Keith! You – oh my god oh my god Chiquita please just murder me ASAP, please and thank you, yo estoy listo para morir –”

The tentacles wriggled with alarm, and thankfully didn’t murder him. “I’m sorry!” Keith exclaimed. “Really, really sorry…but I did it a second time, too.” He hunched his shoulders. “And I kind of…jerked off while watching and had sex with Shiro afterwards?”

“ _Ay por Dios, of course you did_.”

Chiquita was writing on the floor rapidly and Keith conveyed the message to Lance. “Chiquita wants me to tell you that she convinced me to watch the second time, and she’s really sorry, she should’ve told you about it and…she understands if you hate her?” Keith blinked. “When did your plant get so self-deprecating?”

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?” Lance suggested weakly. “I don’t hate you, Chiqui. But – seriously, you – wait is that why you and Shiro…”

“Yeah, after Keith told me what he did, we ‘broke up,’” Shiro replied. “But that’s not your fault, Lance. Because, well…”

“We both really like you,” Keith blurted. “A lot. And we’re not mad.”

“Would’ve preferred if you actually talked to us directly about Operation Boyfriends instead of resorting to tentacle massages and private sparring sessions, but…not gonna lie, the massages were pretty great,” Shiro chuckled.

“You…you like me?” Lance asked timidly. Equally timidly, the tentacles unwrapped, revealing Lance sitting in the middle of them, wiping his face and blinking at them with red rimmed eyes. “But…last night, I thought…”

“Lance, I don’t think any amount of alcohol could persuade me to eat out somebody I didn’t like,” Shiro pointed out.

Lance winced. “So…so you guys remember all that, too. Not just me having very vivid wet dreams?”

“It was real, there are hickeys all over your neck, Lance,” Keith said. Lance flushed and touched his throat. “I think that’s my fault…”

“No, no, this is my fault,” Lance insisted, looking away uncomfortably. “I…I knew you guys were totally wasted. I wasn’t as drunk –”

“Wasn’t as drunk?!” Shiro repeated incredulously. “I had to carry you!”

“I…I’m a good actor,” Lance mumbled. “I only had two or three drinks. I was drunk, sure, but I knew what I was doing, and who I was doing it with.”

“So did we,” Keith said. Shiro gave him a look. “Um…sort of. Mostly. Listen, Lance, we knew it was you, and we knew what we wanted, and, well…we took it.”

“It’s not your fault, Lance,” Shiro added. “Even if you were less drunk – we all made a choice last night, however inebriated that choice might’ve been. And for the record, if Keith and I could make that choice again now, sober, it would be the same choice as last night.”

Lance looked up at that. His lower lip was trembling. “So you’re saying…”

“You didn’t ruin anything, Lance,” Keith said. “Except maybe my sheets, but we’re leaving in a day and I’m moving back in with Shiro, so who really gives a shit, right?”

Lance choked out a laugh, and covered his mouth, biting his lip hard. Shiro reached out a hand to him, an invitation. “It’s okay, Lance. We like you, we’re not mad at you, and we want to make this right.”

“I like you too,” Lance whispered, and the tentacles slowly lowered him to the floor. “But I have a massive hangover right now, so, can we maybe postpone the sober sex?”

“We can definitely postpone the sober sex, my brain feels like it’s disintegrating,” Shiro said with feeling.

“Hot,” Keith said, deadpan. Shiro elbowed him.

Lance snorted, a smile creeping onto his face, and he took Shiro’s extended hand and smiled more when Keith hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “How about sober snuggling?” Keith suggested.

“I am never opposed to snuggling,” Lance mumbled. “’Specially not with you guys.”

“We’re very good snugglers,” Shiro assured him.

“Still good kissers, too?” Lance asked hopefully.

“Always,” Keith said, and kissed his cheek for good measure.

Lance hesitated, though, and looked up at Chiquita, who had been watching them in a dejected, tangled ball of tentacles, all oozing sadly onto the floor like tears. “Thank you, Chiqui,” he said. “You’re a good plant.”

Chiquita wrote, _Lance is happy now._

Lance’s face fell. “Aw, wait, hey,” and stepped away from Keith and Shiro, hurrying back over to her. “Chiquita, I’m not leaving you, ‘kay? I’ll…I’ll be back. Promise.” He glanced back at Keith and Shiro, a little uncertain. “Right?”

They looked at each other. Shiro shrugged, as if to say, _Why not?_ Keith raised an eyebrow at him. Then, after a pause, they both nodded. “ _We’ll_ be back,” Keith corrected. Chiquita perked up at that, tentacles untangling slowly, ooze ceasing.

Lance smiled at her, and a tentacle patted his head fondly, another sliding around his waist in a quick hug before nudging at his shoulder, pushing him back towards Keith and Shiro firmly. _i will be here,_ she wrote. Lance smiled, shot her a thumbs-up, and walked towards the door with Shiro. Keith followed close behind, looking back at the towering plant over his shoulder, not sure how to feel about the growing warmth in his chest when he did so.

A tentacle flicked through the air like it was waving. Then it wrote on the wall, where only Keith could see, _be good to him._

Keith nodded. _We will._

Chiquita turned the period into a heart, curled her tentacles back in towards her bulb, and was content.

*

Hungover snuggling was a lot better than hungover sex would’ve been, Keith was sure. Even with Lance drooling in his hair and Shiro snoring directly into his ear – it was better. He felt warm and safe and loved again, and that was more than Keith had ever expected from today, so he was happy.

Allura had yelled at them, or started to, when she caught them walking to Shiro’s room. Then she’d taken in their haggard appearances and the way they all clung to each other with quiet determination and rethought her approach.

“Everyone was worried about you three,” she said, arms folded. “You just vanished into thin air last night! Three of the five paladins, gone!”

“Sorry, Princess,” Lance mumbled.

She pursed her lips. “Well, I am glad to see you are all alive. However, you look horrendous.”

“We’re aware,” Shiro sighed. “We’re about to sleep for the rest of the day.”

She opened her mouth, and then frowned. “Oh, dear. Did you have too much to drink? I should have warned you…although I thought I told Lance that Taigaran alcohol was more potent that Earth alcohol and cautioned him to let you two know, should he see you.”

Lance cringed. Shiro and Keith gave him knowing looks. “I think by the time he found us, it was too late,” Keith said simply.

Allura sighed. “You three are very lucky we have no missions planned for today.”

Keith’s brow furrowed. “Why don’t we?”

Allura threw up her hands. “Hunk and Pidge are not in the best of shape, either!”

“Katie got drunk?!” Shiro exclaimed, eyes narrowing.

“No, no, not drunk,” Allura sighed. “She and Hunk ate one too many pink pastries at the party. The pastries have little to no effect on Alteans, but on humans…they tend to make you very emotional. They’ve been weeping and reminiscing about nostalgic childhood stories for much of the night and morning, and will talk themselves into an exhausted torpor any moment now.” She sighed again, louder. “Anyway, get some rest, I expect you’ll feel better in the morning.”

As they’d slipped into Shiro’s room, Allura had paused halfway down the hallway and called over her shoulder, “Wait, paladins! Why _were_ you missing last night?”

“Don’t worry about it, Princess!” Lance had called back, grinning at her and winking.

Keith was pretty sure she’d figured it out. And honestly? He wasn’t upset about it. The notion of two boyfriends was growing on him – he thought maybe Chiquita had the right idea. Snuggling was definitely improved with three instead of two, especially when Lance stirred and yawned, blinking sleepily at Keith and turning pink when Keith kissed the tip of his nose.

“What was that for?” Lance mumbled.

“You’re still pretty,” Keith told him.

Lance huffed and hid his face in Keith’s hair and the pillow. “Nobody’s ever called me that before, y’know.”

“Too bad,” Keith said. “You’re a very pretty boy.”

Lance’s mouth twitched. “So are you.”

“Am I a pretty boy too?” Shiro asked, propping up his chin on Keith’s chest and batting his eyelashes.

Lance giggled. “The prettiest. A real Cinderella.”

Shiro pouted. “I like Mulan better.”

“You can’t be Mulan, I’m Mulan,” Keith argued. “You can be Snow White.”

Shiro considered it. “Are the Galra the dwarves, then?”

Lance cackled. “Are you sure you’re not still drunk, dude?”

“This is sober Shiro,” Keith confirmed. “Sober Shiro is just as weird if not weirder, trust me. And no, the dwarves were the good guys. The Arusians can be the dwarves. Zarkon is the Evil Stepmother.”

“Shouldn’t that be Haggar?” Lance said.

“No, the raven is Haggar.”

Lance huffed and poked his shoulder. “Maleficent’s the one with a raven, Keith, do you even Disney?”

“Haggar can be the Magic Mirror,” Shiro yawned.

“I can’t believe I was the first pretty one and nobody’s assigned me a princess yet,” Lance grumbled.

“You can be Lilo,” Keith chuckled.

Lance made a noise of outrage. “Lilo isn’t even a princess!” He moved to smack Keith with a pillow and then reconsidered, settling back down and musing, “She is pretty cool, though. And Blue can be Stitch.”

“I think you’d be Ariel,” Shiro said. “You would make a good mermaid. Merman? Mer…folk…person.”

“Heck yeah I would,” Lance agreed loudly, and then winced. “Ow, my head still hurts.”

“Anyone wanna volunteer to go find some water?” Keith sighed.

“Keith, there is a sink ten feet away,” Shiro said.

“Too far,” Keith groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“I got it,” Lance said, hopping up from the bed with less of his usual energy and filling up two cups, bringing them back to Shiro and Keith and faltering when they stared at him. “Wh – what?”

“You’re sweet,” Keith said, taking a cup and drinking it gratefully, peering at him over the rim. “That’s all.”

“Pretty and sweet?” Lance raised his eyebrows, blushing. “I sound like a real catch.”

“You are,” Shiro murmured, sipping his water and sitting up slowly when the cup was empty. “Who feels up for a shower?”

“Can I lie down in the shower?” Keith asked.

“If you want to drown,” Shiro retorted.

“Great,” Keith said.

“I worry about you guys,” Lance said under his breath.

Shiro snorted. “Sorry. You’ll get used to it.”

*

Keith didn’t drown. He kissed his boyfriends a lot, though.

It was, all in all, a very nice shower.

*

At sunset, the colored glass windows were more vibrant, and the rotunda was alight with pink-orange radiance, painting Chiquita in bright, warm shades over her usual pale green. She had been still and slumbering when they first walked in, but as Lance approached her the tentacles stirred to life, and stroked at him in greeting, faltering when she sensed Keith and Shiro’s presence, too.

They had discussed some things after the shower. Why stop at two boyfriends, right? Why not have an empathetic tentacle sex plant, too? Keith’s heart was pounding, but he’d agreed to this, he’d agreed to at least try, and he _was_ , as Shiro would say, _interested._

Lance whispered something to Chiquita and the tentacles curled in surprise, then towards Keith and Shiro, cautious but curious. Chiquita must have sensed Keith’s nervousness, because she didn’t surround him as she did with Shiro, but gave him space as the tentacles carefully divested Shiro and Lance of their clothes.

They seemed to make a game out of it, tugging lightly at drawstrings and flicking buttons one by one, slithering under waistbands and up shirts. Lance was completely relaxed and amused as they teased him; Shiro was wary but tolerant and intrigued as more swarmed over his body and bared it to their perusal little by little.

Keith startled when a tentacle slipped under his shirt and moved up his chest, the tip peeking out of the collar and poking his chin lightly. Keith held very still, and more tentacles moved in to lift his shirt off, not teasing, just doing. The first once curled over his chest where his heart beat hard, and pet the skin lightly in some attempt to soothe him. Keith’s lips curved up, amused and, alright, fine, _endeared_.

Taking this as a go-ahead, larger tentacles suddenly rushed in and lifted him up into the air to join Shiro and Lance. Keith panicked, eyes widening when his arms and legs were bound, his jeans unzipped and boxers discarded somewhere below him, and _fuck, okay, he was naked and covered in tentacles and suspended by them far above the floor and he was kind of really freaking out._

Chiquita pet him frantically when he struggled and gasped, his pulse racing; she was as distressed as he was. That made him feel a little better but only a little, this was just so weird; he could feel all the tentacles holding him up like a blanket of snakes wriggling against his back, and none of it felt like anything he’d ever experienced or imagined before. Keith was vaguely aware that he was being moved, the tentacles were taking him somewhere, and he waited tensely until the mass of tentacles parted and he was face to face with Shiro.

Keith slumped in relief. Chiquita stroked his face, comforting, and nudged him and Shiro together. Keith went easily, and Shiro caught him, their kiss messy and definitely the strangest one they’d ever shared, considering Shiro’s lips were somehow sweet and tingling against Keith’s, and little wet tendrils kept sliding over their necks and jaws and cheeks. Keith shivered at the sensation but it was easier to keep himself grounded and calm with Shiro close.

The tentacles had cleverly manhandled Keith into Shiro’s lap, so he had a leg on either side of Shiro’s thighs. When Shiro gasped into his mouth, something wriggled against Keith’s hip and Keith broke the kiss to look down. His breath caught when he saw Shiro’s cock was covered in thin tendrils, all of which seemed very excited to discover this new appendage.

Keith snorted because he could relate on a spiritual level to that. He leaned his head against Shiro’s chest and watched them map out the hardening length eagerly, Shiro’s navel sucking in sharply when several of them dipped under the foreskin. They were particularly interested with that bit, and Shiro whined and let his head fall forward onto Keith’s shoulder, hips stuttering up into the strange friction as they wriggled further underneath and tugged at it lightly, oozing all the while.

Lance was cut, so the fixation made sense, Keith mused. Besides, Shiro had a very nice cock. Even the tentacles appreciated it. One flatter tendril lapped over the wide, flared head intently and Shiro moaned into Keith’s neck. “How does it feel?” Keith asked him, nails scratching lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Good; really good,” Shiro murmured, lips brushing his throat. “Nngh…” He jolted and the tentacles around him tightened, effectively trapping him against Keith. While Shiro was mostly held in place by the tentacles, they were still steering clear of touching Keith directly or binding him in any way, giving Keith free rein to stroke Shiro’s cock alongside the tendrils.

Keith took it upon himself to show Chiquita where to touch Shiro to make him quietly lose his mind, and the tendrils quickly picked up on his hints. He suckled at one of Shiro’s nipples and grazed his teeth over the pink nub once it was hard, squeezing at Shiro’s chest while he did so; the tendrils watched attentively and then repeated the motions on Shiro’s other nipple, covering it in blue and latching on in little sucking curls around it, a larger tendril cupping his pectorals and kneading at the thick muscles. Shiro moaned and pushed his chest into it and the tendrils happily continued until his nipples were sore and swollen and Shiro hissed when Keith licked over them, ooze tingling on his tongue.

Shiro’s arms were only half-restrained, the tentacles looped around his wrists and biceps but were uncertain what to do with his Galra arm, unwilling to wrap too tightly around it. Keith supposed it was a good thing that Chiquita wasn’t a fan of Galra tech, but was surprised when Shiro noticed their hesitance and lifted his head to mumble, “Keith, can you – you can show them how to take it off...”

Keith blinked at him and Shiro nodded hastily before dropping his head back down, and Keith rubbed his back and reached over to his Galra arm, the tendrils shying away but hovering curiously as Keith fiddled with the locking mechanism at the top of the prosthetic. “Three turns to the left and one to the right,” he told Chiquita, though he was not sure if she would understand.

Sure enough, when the prosthetic detached, Chiquita reacted with shock and panic, tentacles rearing up violently, tendrils recoiling. They almost dropped the prosthetic in their alarm, but once they’d recovered slightly they began attempting to reattach it frantically, becoming more agitated when that didn’t work. It was a noble effort, anyway. Poor Chiquita was trying her best.

“It’s okay,” Shiro mumbled, laughing faintly and shaking his head. “It’s...supposed to do that.”

The tentacles quivered in utter confusion, but at Shiro’s behest they slowly set the prosthetic down onto the floor far below them, and lingered around the scar tissue where it had been joined with obvious concern. “It doesn’t hurt,” Shiro assured Chiquita, but the plant oozed sadly over the amputation site anyway, clearly now understanding the limb had been long-lost but still trying to help anyway.

Other tendrils moved over Shiro’s body differently than before; gentler and slower, smoothing over the various scars and covering them with a paler blue fluid, one that made Shiro sigh and lean more into Keith. It was what they’d used while massaging him, Keith thought, and he realized that Chiquita was trying to heal all the old wounds even though they had already healed as much as they ever would.

The tender touching was having an effect on Shiro, and Keith added to it by kissing his neck, not to mark and bruise, just to feel Shiro shiver and tilt his head further in a silent plea to continue. Tentacles began to curl around Keith’s thighs and he didn’t stop them, just breathed in Shiro’s familiar smell and nuzzled under his ear, spine arching unconsciously when a tentacle stroked at the small of his back, a thicker one winding around his waist and just settling there, pulsing softly and holding him. Keith liked being held. He hadn’t realized just how much he liked it until just now.

Then Shiro stilled and grunted in surprise, and Keith lifted his head to look at him. Shiro’s eyes were a little dazed. “How long has it been since you fucked me?” Shiro asked, pink spreading over his face as the words left his mouth.

Keith frowned, thinking. “Mmm…too long,” he admitted. Then his thighs tightened around Shiro’s legs and he said, “Wait…are they…”

“Yeah,” Shiro managed, biting his lip and shuddering. “Oh…that’s so _weird._ ”

“Weird how,” Keith breathed, his hands itching to slide down Shiro’s spine, to feel the evidence for himself.

“Oh, huh, I dunno, maybe it’s _weird_ because there are like five _tentacles_ up my _ass_ , Keith?!” Shiro retorted, voice pitching high at the end. “Augh, _I hate you_.”

“Why?”

“I _forgot_ ,” Shiro moaned, mouth slack on Keith’s neck. “Forgot how it feels – forgot how much I like it –”

Keith’s eyebrows rose, his lips curling in a smirk. “Oh? Do you hear that, Chiquita?”

Chiquita did. She definitely did, because the next moment Shiro jerked hard and whimpered and Keith had to reach around, his eyes widening when his fingers found soft, slick skin, widening further when his fingers sank inside easily alongside a mass of wriggling tendrils and ooze. Shiro squirmed at the added intrusion, but his sounds were breathlessly pleasured, not pained, and the tendrils moved slowly in and out of him, treating him as gently there as they did everywhere else.

A tendril wrapped around Keith’s ring finger when it withdrew, questioning, and Keith swallowed and whispered, “Yes, yes, do it,” and held his breath as he felt other tendrils slide under him, searching and pushing between his legs, light and careful as if he hadn’t ridden Shiro to kingdom come a week ago. Keith could appreciate softness, but unlike Shiro it wasn’t what he wanted right now, and he grabbed the closest tentacle to him, squeezing it in his fist and digging his nails in slightly to stop it from escaping his grip.

The tentacle writhed wildly and oozed all over his hand, startled and unused to the rough handling, other tentacles trying to see what was wrong and nudging at Keith’s wrist, but he didn’t let go. He considered the tentacle, which at its widest point was almost as thick as Shiro’s now fully hard cock, and lifted it to eye level. It squirmed uneasily.

“Hello,” Keith said to it, because he figured that was only polite. A blue glob of fluid spilled down Keith’s arm. “I want you to fuck me,” he added conversationally. The tentacle tensed and stilled at that, and Keith got the sense that he’d fully captured its attention. Shiro groaned, watching the strange exchange with half-lidded eyes. “And after that, I want to ride Shiro’s cock, so don’t let him come until then. You can join in if you want. Sound good?”

In reply, the tentacle wrenched itself out of his hand with shocking strength and dove behind him, following the path of the tendrils, and pressing its slender tip inside and sending the smaller tendrils scattering. Keith grinned in satisfaction and then gasped when it continued pressing inside, gradually increasing in girth, pumping ooze as it went. His lips parted and his untouched cock twitched against his stomach, and he felt his body ache and adjust, ache and adjust, the tentacle pushing and pulsing in him with purpose.

Shiro groaned at him again, staring obviously at the tentacle fucking Keith open, mere inches from his swollen cock. “Keith, _Keith_ , fuck. I can’t – I’m gonna come, I –”

The tendrils tightened around the base of Shiro’s cock and Keith chuckled breathlessly. “Not yet, ‘Kashi.”

Shiro glowered at him, but it wasn’t very threatening because his eyes were watering and his mouth was open and panting, lips glossy with spit. “Keith – I cannot believe – you still want my dick even when we’re literally _surrounded_ by giant tentacles,” he hissed. “There are _other options._ ”

“I love your dick,” Keith retorted defensively, arching and whining – the tentacle was curling and rubbing at his insides rhythmically, flicking the tip over his prostate, Keith’s breath rushing out in a strangled moan. “I also love – ah! – making you crazy.”

“It’s working,” Shiro grunted, “it’s really – mmph?!”

A tentacle had decided to interrupt their banter by pushing itself down Shiro’s throat. Shiro wasn’t protesting. In fact, he just closed his eyes, relaxed his jaw, and drooled. Keith tapped his lips where they stretched wide around it. 

“This is a good look for you,” he murmured. Shiro’s gaze darted back to him, his face flushing furiously. “Beautiful and wrecked. Mmm, you _are_ a pretty boy, Shiro.” Shiro gagged and blue trickled out of his mouth, Keith caught it with his tongue.

The tentacle inside of him shuddered, and Keith thought it was about to come, but instead he found himself lifted up, and swore in understanding as Chiquita guided Shiro’s cock in alongside the twisting tentacle. Shiro made an inhuman sound.

Keith swore. A lot. Apparently disapproving of his string of colorful profanity, Chiquita smacked a tentacle over his mouth. Keith nipped at it defiantly; a fat tendril slipped past his lips in retaliation and rubbed at his tongue until his mouth was warm and tingling. It didn’t fuck his throat, just pressed deep enough for him to swallow the thick sweet goo and moan at the burst of heat when the tentacle came inside his ass, slithering out and slicking the way for Shiro’s cock.

Keith clutched at Shiro and rocked his hips faster and Shiro fucked up into him unevenly, his cock throbbing, and Keith wanted more more more but he knew Shiro was at the end of his rope; his eyes rolling back in his head and sweat dripping down his neck and chest, his white hair darkened by it.

Tendrils slid into Keith in the tentacle’s absence and Shiro shouted at the added friction and came with a powerful buck of his hips that made Keith bounce and wail, panting as he was filled _again._

He was still hard, still really _really_ hard, and his cock was burning against Shiro’s hip when his cock softened and slipped out, slippery little tendrils playing lightly at Keith’s rim just enough to give him the illusion of still being stretched full. Shiro’s breath feathered across his cheek, his expression as stunned as Keith felt. Unfortunately, while Shiro was stunned and blessedly post-orgasm, Keith was stunned and dying of arousal. 

Keith whined and shifted in his lap. “Where the fuck is Lance,” he gritted out. He was one hundred percent sure Chiquita was torturing him now just like he’d tortured Shiro. The tendrils in his hair felt nice, though, dry and curling through his thick black locks affectionately, an attempt to calm him.

“I think Chiquita likes your hair,” Shiro noted, voice hoarse and husky and hot as fuck, rumbling and rich like black coffee poured over rock ‘n’ roll. Keith felt it in his _bones._

“Well, that makes one of us!”

“Oh, hi, Lance,” Shiro mumbled, head flopping forward onto Keith’s shoulder lazily. “Where were you?”

Keith had a pretty good guess as to where Lance had been – he was covered in fluids, his own come and Chiquita’s as well as the blue ooze, and sprawled languidly in his own personal tentacle hammock which was carrying him towards them.

Lance smirked. “Chiqui missed me.” Then his gaze sharpened and he cocked his head at them, eyebrows lifting and cheeks flushing. “Jeez, you guys are a mess. Thought she might go easy on you, guess not – ahh, alrighty then, round three it is, babe!”

“Did you just call Chiquita ‘babe,’” Keith muttered, trying not to stare too hard at the tentacle fucking lazily in and out of Lance’s loosened hole and the other one pumping his soft cock leisurely.

“Um, yeah, because she is a _total_ babe,” Lance laughed, eyes fluttering shut and spine bowing. “Mmm…” His mouth fell open and Keith groaned, low and wanting.

Chiquita took notice, and Keith wanted to scream when a tendril wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking it too loose, too dry to be anything but teasing. The sound that left him was more of a snarled whimper. 

Lance’s eyes snapped open and he gawked at Keith as he finally processed the scene in its entirety – Shiro, limp body dripping with ooze, slumped into Chiquita’s slow caresses, soft cock stirring helplessly against his thigh; and Keith in his lap, rutting his hard cock uselessly into nothing, hole open and wet and _empty_ save for the cum slipping sluggishly out as he shifted in increasing frustration.

“Fuck,” Lance said simply.

Keith glared at him with patent desperation. “Yes, Lance, thank you, that’s kind of exactly what I’m trying to do here but your awful plant is being a _tease_ –”

Chiquita did not take kindly to being called awful, and before Keith could even finish that sentence, he had a lapful of Lance, and his aching cock was sinking home into soft wet heat and Lance gasped, “You were _saying_?”

Keith buried his face in Lance’s neck and sobbed in relief, the sound quickly turning into a growl as he fucked up into him urgently, harder and faster than he would have ever dared otherwise, but Lance took it easily, dying for it as much as he was, and keened in loud appreciation.

Lance’s head fell back onto the slope of Shiro’s shoulder, Shiro’s slack mouth found Lance’s, and Keith’s teeth dragged over Lance’s sticky sweet skin sharply. He bit down hard when Lance tightened around him and rolled his hips down into each thrust in perfect rhythm, and Lance was _good_ at this, he was good at fucking, good at being fucked, and Keith told him so and Lance laughed in smug delight and pulled Keith in for a kiss, too.

Then Shiro arched up so forcefully that Keith and Lance were nearly dislodged from his lap, and would have been if not for the tentacles holding them all together. Shiro’s eyes were huge and shocked and Keith opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when something _big_ prodded at Keith’s hole and he froze.

Lance sat up fully and peered over Keith’s shoulder and groaned, “Oh, _coño_ , this oughta be good.”

“What –” Keith started, and cried out when it breached him, his eyes going as wide as Shiro’s and his cock jerking inside Lance. He craned his neck frantically to look and moaned when he saw a flash of yellow and felt the slow rough stretch of the ridges inside him, and something soft and textured dragging through him as it wriggled deeper. The golden tentacle, which meant –

Shiro writhed and his cock stood out from his body, leaking and twitching from oversensitivity as the black tentacle thrust into him, and Keith watched to see if his stomach would bulge like Lance’s and it _did_ , slight but still visible if one was looking for it. Just like the other tentacles had been with Shiro, the black tentacle fucked him slow and deep and sweet, until he was a mewling mess and Lance kissed him and bounced on Keith’s cock enthusiastically, his own cock fully hard and leaking over Keith’s chest.

The golden tentacle didn’t bother with slow and sweet, but it did go deep, so deep that the fullness was almost unbearable, almost, and Keith felt it wriggle just behind his cock and wondered dazedly if Lance could feel it too, if Lance could feel the tentacle moving where his body straddled Keith’s. He wondered how many times this tentacle had fucked Lance, and wondered which one Lance liked being fucked with the most, and wondered not for this first time how this was what his life had become.

Chiquita was going to kill him, at this rate. Keith was alright with that. Sure, there were few positions more compromising to found dead in than with a tentacle cock up your ass, but it had been a good life. He had two boyfriends and an alien tentacle sex plant girl(?)friend, so Keith figured he’d done pretty good for himself in the end.

“Oh my god, dude, Keith, shut up,” Lance giggled, rolling his eyes fondly and shaking his head. “You’re not gonna _die_ , Drama Queen.”

“Nngghhnng,” Shiro groaned, unconvinced, and came for the second time that night in a pretty fantastic display, if Keith did say so himself. He really did need to fuck Shiro more often if _this_ was the result. Maybe he and Lance could fuck Shiro together. At the same time. Shiro could take it. He’d probably beg for it.

“ _Shut up_ , Keith,” Lance said again, but this time it was pleading and his eyes were wild and bright like he was imagining it, too.

Apparently he’d said all of that aloud. The golden tentacle had fucked Keith’s filter away entirely. Shiro was staring at him hazily and smiled when Keith met his gaze; his gray eyes soft and tired and serene, and then he mumbled, “I’d beg for you, baby.”

The golden tentacle rubbed over Keith’s prostate as Shiro said it, and Keith came in an overwhelming wave of sensation, heat rushing through his gut and spilling in Lance, back arching and toes curling, tentacles constricting around his limbs and the golden tentacle fucking him through it valiantly.

Lance came around him, tight and fluttering for a long, glorious moment as he striped Keith’s chest with cum. Keith lolled forward against him, and Lance fell back against Shiro, and the golden tentacle pulled out to come in a hot splash across Keith’s ass and lower back, swiping through the mess and rubbing fondly at his tender hole once before curling away.

Keith much preferred this feeling to a hangover, because he might have been fucked-out and sore and an absolute mess, but his head was clear and his thoughts were quiet and blissful as Chiquita lowered the three of them slowly to the floor. She didn’t move to clean them off right away; she was as content as they were to lie together in a post-coital daze, made better by the snuggly tentacles that nuzzled and grasped gently at them. Keith turned his head into Lance’s chest and Shiro’s hand fell warm and heavy over his hip and when Keith sighed, the two of them echoed it fervently.

They didn’t say anything. Chiquita couldn’t, after all, and they didn’t actually need words to express the quiet feeling of unity and peace they felt right then. There was something kind of humbling about the whole experience. Keith doubted all the Universe’s problems could be solved by a thorough Chiquita Therapy session, but he thought it was maybe worth a shot. The Universe would be a better place if there were more Chiquitas in it, that was for sure.

More Lances and Shiros, too.

Shiro’s lips pressed clumsily to the nape of his neck and Lance’s fingers brushed lightly over his cheek and Keith savored each touch like he never had before.

Keith had never much liked to be touched, had always been the one who flinched away from hugs and who fiercely valued his personal space; but here, now, it felt like something special, something sacred, something shared.

A tendril touched the corner of his lips lightly, like a kiss; the best one Chiquita could offer him. He smiled, opening his eyes. The tendril brushed his hair out of his face, pliant when Keith leaned forward and gave it a tiny kiss back, just enough to make it quiver with joy and curl into a rounded heart shape.

Shiro chuckled, and Lance beamed. Keith looked at them both, and then at the little blue heart, and said, “You know...I think I could get used to this.”

**Author's Note:**

> spanish translations:
> 
> Soy muy puro, y…no, tampoco tengo las palabras en español. Carajo, esa bebida era fuerte… - I am pure, and...no, I don’t have words in spanish either. Fuck, that drink was strong…
> 
> yo estoy listo para morir - I am ready for death
> 
> and if you somehow didn't know by now (bc i use them in my fics a lot...) coño and carajo are my 2 fav spanish (cuban) swears that literally mean female and male genitals respectively but are mostly used like "fuck" or "shit," or together like "fuckin shit." they're versatile. good words. just, maybe, don't say them to strangers if you ever go to cuba lol this has been a psa


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